


Remnants of a Guilty Soul

by Twisted_Fate_MK2



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms, RWBY
Genre: Action, Adventure, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 38,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26440810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Fate_MK2/pseuds/Twisted_Fate_MK2
Summary: In search of answers, and trapped on a world they do not know by mechanisms they are unaware of, Rion and Spark must seek out the truth of their new world. And with it, perhaps a way to get back to their own, and those they left behind.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

XxX----XxX----XxX

Official Supporters: 

The Impossible Muffin. 

Adeptus, Private Wilger

Commissioner, Gib 

Settled Reader, Xager the Chaos King

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM me for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : https://discord.gg/2UZncAm

Second link here, remove ( and ) and it SHOULD work : D(i)scord(.)gg(slash)kfhkfUb

I have a kofi account now, too, under this name for those interested.

Beta(s) : 

XxX----XxX----XxX

Life in space was an interesting mix of absolute normalcy and routine, and rare but still just common enough to be predictable bursts of chaos and confusion. Whether an engine was on the fritz, the atmo-generators were confused somehow and not filtering properly, or someone just forgot to stock enough toilet paper for the trip, each week usually had something insane cropping up to cause problems. What was weird, was how quiet and calm things had been for the last few weeks, which usually meant that something very bad was coming.

So, when she woke up to a pounding headache and a blistering sun beating down on her, instead of the cool fluorescents of the ship’s interior, she wasn’t particularly surprised.

She’d barely even groaned when the smarmy, synthetic voice beside her asked, “Oh, are you finally awake? I thought you might sleep the day away.”

“Of course you’re here…” She sighed, reaching up with one hand to rub the sleep out of her eyes while the fingers of her other ran through the rough sand she was laid on. “Do you know why the hell I’m laid out on a beach right now?”

“If I knew, I would tell you, Forge.” She felt shade one her, blocking out the sun on her face and sighed, looking up into his synthetic, faintly glowing face. Shrugging his great, metal shoulders, Spark added, “Unfortunately, I do not recall much of anything beyond one point five hours ago, when I myself awoke.”

“Wait, you were unconscious?” He nodded and that had a cold spot blooming in her stomach. Sitting up, she hissed for her aching back and stiff, throbbing arms and legs. It was like she’d spent the entire day before over-doing “That’s possible?”

“I feel the answer to that question is a bit self-evident.” The machine hummed in its way of pseudo-laughter, turning a long look on the ocean around them. “At least we know your eyes are still working.

“Oh great, you’re making jokes now...” She growled under her breath, forcing herself onto her shaky and growling as the shifting, loose sand almost brought her right back down again. Running her hands over her bodysuit to search out any faults, she sighed, “I don’t have my comms on me.”

“No, you don’t. I already scanned for it while I was waiting for your nap to end.” The large machine froze for a moment, before the mechanical face glowed the dimmest purple-blue and frowned. Standing unnaturally still, he turned to her, “I cannot raise the Ace of Spades either… That’s not right, I shouldn’t be able to lose connection.”

“You can’t raise them…” She could feel the cold fear in her chest like a weight, now, solid and heavy. Schooling it with a deep breath she asked, “What about your Prometheans? Your weaponry?”

In answer, the Promethean machine’s arm snapped up, Hardlight shimmerinto into shape in a flash of ruddy orange light. Looking the Light Rifle over, Spark nodded, “That, it seems, is still working. But I can’t raise the ship…”

“And that means what, precisely?” She asked, “Are you damaged? Is my ship? What is-”

“I do not know.” He said, cutting her off and rounding on her, laying a single hand on her shoulder and squeezing it comfortably. “I don’t know, but I’ll find out, Rion. Panicking won’t help any of us, though.”

“I’m not panicking, just… A lot of questions running through my mind, right now.” She sighed, shrugging his hand off of her shoulder and holding a hand out expectantly. “I’m unarmed. Do you mind?”

“Of course.” He nodded, a simple little Boltshot flaring to life just above her hand. “It has about-”

“I know how much ammo it has.” She sighed, turning a look on the beach around them. Palm trees, gravelly spots pockarming across the sand and further in, a thick jungle that didn’t give her any idea on which way to go. Quietly, anxiously, she asked, “Any idea which direction to head, then?”

“Not specifically, no.” The machine answered mechanically, slowly surveying the thick jungle and otherwise barren beach. “Unless you see any landmarks to go by-”

As if on cue, a quartet of massive, strangely armored wolves broke through the jungle’s edge a few yards down the beach. Each was easily as big as her, and covered in red-lined, spiked white armor of some kind. They lumbered out onto the sand, sniffing the air like they were searching for a scent while she slipped around her massive, armored friend.

“Those,” she hissed, “don’t look natural.”

“Local fauna.” He murmured, half turning and running his mechanized hands over his rifle mechanically, “Some form of canine, too… Anatomical features seem to match Earth-based canine species, sans the armor. Shape matches, the larger, more armored one seems to be the pack leader.”

“Do you recognize it?” Okay, that was a bit of a dumb question, since he was categorizing it in front of her. If he knew it then he’d have already had it on catalogues. Instead, before he could answer, she said, “We should go before they smell us. They look hungry and I’m not volunteering to be dinner for anyone.”

“That won’t be a problem.” Spark assured her with an almost airy, quiet chuckle. Raising his rifle and pointing it roughly over them, “Wild animals dislike loud sounds. I’ll disperse them and we can move in the other direction.”

“I have a bad feeling about-” The loud, synthetic thoom of the rifle split the air, a single holo-round searing through the open sky above the creatures. They flinched and turned towards them, snarling and licking their bony teeth, and she sighed, “They aren’t running.”

“No they aren’t.” Spark confirmed as they lurched forward, kicking sand up behind them as they rushed towards them. “Curiouser and curiouser… Wait here for just a moment, please.”

“Sure.” She shrugged, watching him stalk ahead of her and murmuring under her breath, “One of us is made of armor, after all. Might as well enjoy it…”

The smallest of the wolves, obviously, was also the fastest as it raced almost ferally towards them, jaw wide and eyes locked not on the machine but, interestingly, beyond. On her. The heavily armored Promethean frame her friend occupied - or was, she could never be sure of the technicality on it - shot to the side when it tried to bypass it, though, slamming a single great foot down and into its skull. Bone and flesh gave way to Promethean steel and the creature jerked to a stop, back half snapping up and into the machine for momentum’s sake before it fell limp in the sand.

And then began to dissolve, of all things.

Spark paid it the shortest second of attention before his head snapped up and his rifle went with it, tracking perfectly in time with his mechanized gaze. Two more bursts sounded off, ripping into two more of the strange wolves where their neck met their shoulders. Each fell with loud snarls and puffs of leaking, inky smoke that billowed out from their bodies like a smokescreen between the two of them and the slowest, largest of the wolves.

Which, in spite of Guilty Spark having massacred its brethren, barreled on towards the machine without a care in the world.

It was the size of the rest of its pack and then some, and covered in twice as much of the armored, spined plating. The red veins along its length seemed to glow as it reached Spark and leapt, jaw wide and aimed for his mechanical throat, for as little as that would matter. One armored fist punched out before it landed, though, crushing the base of its jaw up and into its skull, hurling it back where it writhed and bucked in the sand.

Jaw hanging loosely, it found its footing and pulled itself up, snarling wetly and leaping for his armored framed again. The same fist snapped to the side, casually backhanding it into the sand with a hum of curious thought. This time, though, the rifle snapped up in his other hand, a trio of searing red rounds bursting forth to carve through the creature’s chest and throat. As it fell smoke began to billow from its wounds and then from its body, choking the air as Spark turned to trundle back towards her.

“These are very strange creatures.” He said as he reached her and half-turned, watching the smoke drift up and into the air, “Earth canines would have dispersed after the shot, unless they were starving. And then they would have run when their numbers were dispatched so readily, or when injured.”

“And those didn’t.” Not to mention the ‘turning into smoke’ part but she was sure he’d noted that much without needing her to mention it. “Did you notice how they fixated on me, too?”

“I did.” He nodded, “Curious.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to run into more of them.” She said, turning to leave and adding a short, “Come on, Spark. We need to get out-”

“Something large is coming.” He warned her, free hand snapped out to her chest to push her behind him, towards the sea while his rifle snapped up. 

She stumbled and fell in the sand, which proved to be her saving grace as an entire tree slammed into the Forerunner machine, shattering on his armor and showering her in splinters and soil. Spark staggered under the blow, his free arm snapping to the side to hurl the bottom half of the palm away from them and clear his vision, other hand raising the rifle as the beast that had thrown it leapt for him.

His rifle cracked twice, angry orange lines lancing out at the monster as a fist slammed down onto him, his left arm snapping up to take the blow. Standing over him, the honest to god minotaur bellowed a roar right into his synthetic face and slammed its other fist to the side, into where a Human would have had ribs. Spark’s armor crunched as he was forced aside, but he didn’t move more than a foot. A fact that seemed to shock the minotaur just long enough for his arm to force the great fist up over his head and then slam down, crushing the monster’s other arm at the elbow.

Pain lancing up its now ruined arm, the beast bellowed once again before two rapid bursts of orangered carved through its open maw and out the back of its skull.

“That,” he said as it fell on him and he casually forced it to the side, collapsing in a smoking heap beside him, “is not any kind of natural fauna I have yet seen. And the coloration...”

“That couldn’t be natural…” She nodded, standing and brushing the sand off her ass. Raising her loaned Boltshot, she ordered, “Get a Watcher out, scan the trees. I want to know if more are coming.”

“I don’t need them.” He warned quietly, raising his weapon towards the treeline, “My own sensors are detecting around twenty contacts thirty yards out, spread out across twenty-eight point five degrees. They are scattered, but approaching, and- Behind us.”

They spun on a heel in the same moment, their weapons snapping up as… A small fishing boat trawled up in the shallow of the sea, one of the three men on it waving to them. “Well ‘ello! We heard gunfire n’ figured someone ran up on some Grimm, so’s we came looking! You folks need a ride to Kuo Kuana?”

For a moment, she considered refusing them. She didn’t know what a Kuo Kuana was, or who these people were - or what, based on the third’s literal horns - and she didn’t like going into what she didn’t know. But the sound of Spark’s Lightrifle cracking tugged her out of her reverie and she nodded, splashing into the warm, tropical waters towards the boat and calling for Spark to follow her.

They weren’t whatever those monsters were, and that was more than enough for now.

“I gotcha missy.” One said as he helped her into the boat while Spark fended off a trio of small raptor looking things. Raising his voice, the fisherman said, “Oi! Get on then, tin man! We’s ‘bout to get goin’ either way so- Stars and tides!”

“I am here.” Spark grunted shortly as he splashed down beside the boat, nearly propelling it away before his hand snapped onto it to anchor it in place. With unnatural grace, he leapt up and out of the water, kneeling on the metal bottom of the wide fishing trawler and grunting, “We should go. They have aerial elements coming for us.”

“We sail,” the fisherman grunted, “you shoot.”

The boat lurched as they turned to sail away, and Spark turned, his rifle cracking out two more lances of focused hardlight. The strange, crow-like monsters lurched as their wings were severed and then fell, flailing in the water as they drowned. A brutal way to deal with them, to be sure, but a damn effective one, too.

“So,” she started as she settled in beside the boat’s wheel, watching the captain steer their way away from the monsters, “you mind sharing what a ‘Kuo Kuana’ is with me, Mister….?”

“Mistah’ John.” The man drawled irritably, “John Greene. And how the Grimm tide do you not know what Menagerie’s capital is? Yer on the dang continent! What, they don’t teach geography in them fancy Human schools o’ yours?”

“Not about Menagerie…”

“Damn typical, that is… Don’t even teach about us good ole Faunus, after all the shit.” The man growled, short, deer tail flicking rapidly on the back of his hips. “You seem an alright sort, ain’t said nothin’ bout my tail at least, but some Humans… Figures dey wouldn’t even teach ya ‘bout our capital.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, sir.” She said, affecting as polite a smile as she could covered in sand and dripping sea-water. “But since they didn’t, you mind… Filling me in, just a little, on it before we get there? What it’s like, who's in charge…?”

“Yeah, reckon you’ll need some help from the Chieftain seein’ as you’re lost.” The man sighed, “Well, we’ll be there in ‘bout a few hours, so I’ll bend yer ear if ye don’t mind me doin’ it.”

“Please.” She smiled even wider, “I’ll listen to everything you have to say.”

XxX----XxX----XxX

“The starscape around this planet is unfamiliar to me.” Her massive, machine friend said as she approached him at the rear of the fishing ship. In spite of his words he was watching the sea patiently, hands hanging at his sides, and not looking up. As if sensing the question he explained, “Watcher, approximately two hundred meters above us. I have it surveying for more of those creatures and the starscape.”

Useful…

“Grimm.” She explained, sitting on the edge of the boat beside him and joining him in watching the waves. He didn’t ask but she knew better and explained, quietly enough the working men wouldn’t hear, “The captain referred to the Minotaur as a type of Grimm. Combined with the similar features…”

“Some strange, local fauna, then.” He filled in easily enough, the finger of one hand tapping idly on his thigh in what was either a nervous tick, or his emulation of one. Whichever was the case, she couldn’t be sure and he didn’t explain, going on instead, “Like our assistants, then. They seem to be some… Odd Human offshoot.”

“Rescuers.”

“I didn’t need rescue.” He corrected amusedly, “I easily dispatched those ‘Grimm’, so assistants is a more accurate word.”

“Yeah, well, don’t say that to them, alright? At least not before we reach Kuo Kuana.” He nodded ever so slightly and she sighed, rolling her eyes and going on. “Speaking of, they’re called ‘Faunus’. Humans exist on this planet, too, apparently, but that’s what they are called.”

“My onboard records show no mention of them in UNSC records.” He murmured, “Or in my own, personal records.”

“The Domain?”

“No, y my personal records. I… Cannot access the Domain, currently.” Spark answered quietly, turning to give her a worried look, the lights of his Promethean unit tinting a strange, worried kind of blue. “I am cut off from it, somehow. I find it… Disconcerting, to be frank.”

“I didn’t even know you could be cut off…”

“I can, but doing so requires… Effort on the part of those that for the most part no longer exist.” He explained, colors shifting to a cooler, darker blue as he turned back to the ocean. “At least I can still call on the Promethean ancilla to fight. And my weaponry, of course. The Commander frame is formidable even without reinforcements and weaponry, but…”

“A gun’s always useful.” She nodded, “Yeah, I get it.”

“I suspected you would.” He nodded, “And I suspected you would feel reassured, knowing I was still at my peak. At least physically speaking.”

“I am, yeah.” She nodded, “But aside from that, are you okay? Being cut off like that can’t be… Comfortable.”

“It’s rather like suddenly losing the ability to see several colors.” He nodded, answering the unasked question behind her words. Shrugging his spined shoulders, he added, “I have survived worse and will survive this. Do not worry for me. At the very least, I have an ocean to watch.”

“You enjoy the ocean?”

“I do.” He nodded, finger still tapping out its staccato rhythm on his thigh. It was uneven so even though she didn’t recognize it, she suspected it was a song or something. “Water has always been soothing, to me. The ocean particularly so.”

“As long as you’re sure you’re fine…” 

“I am.” He nodded and, seemingly eager to push them on to something else, asked, “What else did you learn?”

“Kuo Kuana is the capital of Menagerie, which seems to be the Faunus’ homeland.” There’d be some vitriol behind everything that implied that, though, so she felt like something was wrong there. “Mistral is located on a continent to the North and, beyond it, there’s another ‘Kingdom’ called Atlas. Where the captain figures we’re from.”

“Why is that?”

“You.” She grunted shortly, “Atlas has a lot of robots. Droids, from the sound of things, but they have prosthetics and power armor, too. The jump to you, with your obviously advanced tech, and I both being Atlesian is an understandable one to make.”

“And I’m sure you saw no reason to disabuse him of the notion.” She nodded and Spark hummed in thought, “Your reasons are obvious, I suppose. Wherever we are, and however we got here, something strange is at play. I am severed from the Domain, there are strange creatures afoot, and for all the recent happenings, they don’t recognize what is a very clearly Promethean frame. Even modified, and on an outskirt colony, such should be a common enough image to have seen.”

“Maybe not.” She murmured, “If they’re cut off, or just out of the way, the rumor mill and what happened at Earth might not have reached them. No one could hide what that ship did, but out here…”

“Maybe they don’t know.” Spark hummed, finger pausing for a fraction of a second as he thought before resuming as he went on, “A logical assumption. Only… It doesn’t feel right. It feels like something greater is at play, even if I do not yet know what it even could be.”

“I agree.” She nodded, giving him a serious look that drew his full attention to her, “So, we’re Atlesians who got lost. We don’t have any problems with Faunus, and you are a pseudo-AI I created. Not hyper-intelligent, but not stupid, and built to protect me. Until we know more, that’s the story.”

“I understand.” He nodded, “If they have it, I shall attempt to access whatever passes for a global information net on this planet. With it, I may be able to glean more information to better build our cover up.”

“Good plan.” She nodded, “And-”

“Oi!” A familiar voice shouted, drawing them both back around to look towards the head of the ship where the Captain was waving and smiling. “We’re roundin’ the shoreline. Jus’ ‘bout five minutes left an’ you can hop off. Hol’ up and I’ll see ya on yer way to the Chieftain’s house.”

“Can I ask why?”

“Humans ain’t exactly welcome on Menagerie.” He explained with a shrug, “Yer a good lot, but best to check in. Explain things, ‘fore people get the wrong idea. And ‘sides, they’ll pay you out for killin’ them Grimm.”

That got them a bounty? Interesting… “Alright, we’ll wait around. We weren’t exactly planning on running off anyway.”

“Aye, I don’t imagine you all would get far.”

XxX----XxX----XxX

Kuo Kuana, and presumably everywhere else on Menagerie since this was the capital and thus would be the best developed, looked like an odd and unfortunate mix of tropical ideal and way too many people for it to be enjoyed. Sandy, beautiful beaches were packed with tall warehouses and long docks and walkways that spindled out into the bay. Beyond them, to either side of a wide avenue, houses and shops were crammed wherever they could fit amid gentle hills that descended down, into a slight crater.

And at its center lay a manor that her guide’s long, gnarled and calloused hand pointed out, “Das the chiefs’s house. You head on down dere an’ introduce yourselves. Tell ‘em you’re stuck out here an’ lookin’ for pa for some Grimm kills. If they want witnesses, the ole Carbuncle will be in dock for the day.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, offering a hand for the Faunus to shake. He blinked at it and then grinned widely, taking it and giving it a firm shake. As he released her, she turned to leave and added a, “Safe travels to you.”

“An’ to you too, Missy.”

With that, she parted ways with the fishing captain and turned to head into the settlement. Heads turned to watch them pass by, and spaced opened in front of them, but she couldn’t tell if it was because of her or the large, faintly glowing warmachine trundling along just behind her. 

Though, of course, if she were to place a bet…

“Hold!” A man with wide, moose-like antlers barked as they approached the large entryway of the manor. “Who are you and why are you here?”

The guard’s armor and equipment were light, with simplistic plating over his chest and forearms and little else aside from a forehead cap made of what looked like steel secured by thick linens for protection. Whether that was due to the omnipresent heat or some economic downturn of the country, she couldn’t tell for sure. But then, this was the capital, and these, seemingly, were the personal guards for its leadership.

Regal armor, even with heavier protection, could be built for heat like this. Chainmail, for instance. That they didn’t use that, though, spoke of something… Unfortunate. 

And, luckily, not her problem.

“My name is Rion Forge.” She started simply, leaning on as much truth as she could manage, without spoiling the real truth, to better keep her story straight. “I’m the captain of a small scavenger ship, the Ace of Spades, that went down along the coast. A few fishermen found me after my bodyguard killed some Grimm and directed me here for payment.”

“Damn. Another ship down…” The guard sighed and shook his head before he gave her a long once-over, “What took her down, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Depends on why you’re asking.”

“Records.” He shrugged simply, “A ship going down has to be reported. That gets collected and collated with other incidents so we know where to place new warning buoys for reefs and the like, or where to warn incoming ships away from.”

“Ah.” She blinked, thinking quickly, “I’m… Not actually sure what happened or where. I wasn’t at the helm when we went down.”

“Uh-huh.” The guard sighed and turned, giving the other guard, a young woman with a thin, reptilian tale and scales that crawled across her arms, a look. “Go and let the Chieftain know he has visitors. He’ll want to see them since they’re Human.”

“Alright.” She nodded, turning to head through the door and then blinking as heels approached Rion’s back. “Missus Belladonna-”

“I heard all about it at the docks.” The lithe woman said as she stepped by, feline ears flicking animatedly as she did. Turning to give them a smile the middle-aged Faunus nodded back the way they had come and held up the basket of fish she’d brought with her, “A mutual friend of ours caught me. He always brings me some of his catch when he comes in.”

“Ah.” She had to fight hard to say that made sense, or look at her ears. Instead, Rion simply smiled and nodded, offering a hand, “Well it’s good to meet you, Missus Belladonna.”

“I would say the same.” She smiled in return, balancing the basket on a hip to shake her hand gently and smiling wider for it. “I hear you two managed to kill a pack of Beowolves and a Minotaur.”

“A minotaur?!” The guardswoman sputtered in surprise, schooling herself and adding, more professionally, “That’s, uh, impressive.”

“Indeed it is.” The woman smiled, retaking the basket in both hands and turning back to the door. “Please, come with me, I’ll show you to my husband. He can pay you and… Well, I’m sure that he’ll want to talk about your future.”

“My future?”

“Here on Menagerie, yes.” She nodded, smiling pleasantly all the while. “They said you were Atlesian, which means you’re a long way from home or any way to it. And without the CCT, you can’t draw funds. With your ship gone, you’ll need work, and, well… My husband will be the best shot you have at getting it anymore soon here on Menagerie.”

“Ah.” That made sense and, really, they needed a chance to gain information about the planet, so… “Alright then. Lead the way, ma’am.”

For now, she’d have to take what she could get.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Requested by : 

Gib

XxX----XxX----XxX


	2. Getting a Job

XxX----XxX----XxX

Official Supporters: 

Adeptus, Private Wilger

Commissioner, Gib 

Settled Reader, Xager the Chaos King

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM me for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : https://discord.gg/2UZncAm

Second link here, remove ( and ) and it SHOULD work : D(i)scord(.)gg(slash)kfhkfUb

I have a kofi account now, too, under this name for those interested.

Beta(s) : 

XxX----XxX----XxX

Requested by :

Gib

XxX----XxX----XxX

Inside, the Belladonna Manor, as she was going to refer to it as until someone corrected her, was as warmly built and lit as she’d expected looking at the outside. The entryway let into a small hall, lined on either side by beaches set in between large planters with beautiful, if small, tropical trees sporting bright flowers and clusters of small nuts hidden under them, nestled amongst thorns and soft looking leaves.

Through it, they were led into a wide, open foyer, ringed by a raised walkway with guards milling about alongside a handful of suit-wearing Faunus. Some of each vanished through the doors that lined the second floor, but her guide ignored them and so Rion did, too. The lower floor was wide and open, with tree-planters in each corner, sunned by skylights above them and filled with vibrantly colored and smelling plants.

“Our office and administrations wing.” The woman explained as they passed through it, “Offices for running the day-to-day on the second floor, and a waiting area on the first. For appointments.”

“It’s, uh…” Very bright and obnoxiously strong-scented with so many tropical flowers, she wanted to say. Instead, she offered, “It’s beautiful, Ma’am. Not what I’m used to, I’ll admit, but it’s still nice.”

“By which you mean the smell is a bit strong and the flowers’ coloring way too vibrant for you. Hm?” Khali Belladonna hummed, looking over a shoulder, one brow raised almost teasingly as they passed through the room. Rion only blinked and Khali chuckled, “Usually, Atlesians’ sensibilities to color and design clash rather strongly with Menagerie Faunus’ preferences.”

“Ah.” Well, at least she had an excuse for not liking it, then. And an opportunity to fish for information, too, without raising suspicion. “Why do you think that is, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Oh, I’d hate to come off as rude…”

“Hard to do that when I asked.” Rion chuckled quietly, “Isn’t it?”

“Fair enough, I suppose.” The woman laughed as they stepped through a wide door opposite the one they’d come through, into an equally warm, if narrower and plant free, hallway. “I suppose the greatest issue is the difference between a city built in the tundra, all black brick and white Atlesian tech and snow, and a tropical home. Atlas and Mantle are also a bit more ordered, military, than here and I understand that can… Clash, a bit.”

“That... Makes sense, yeah.” She nodded, filing away those little pieces of information for later. “Anyway yeah, it’s a bit… Much for me. But if you’re happy with it, that’s all that really matters.”

“True enough.” She said as they reached a mostly plain, nondescript door. “Wait here, for a moment, please. I’ll go explain everything to my Ghira and take these,” she hefted the fish meaningfully, “off while he comes to meet with you.”

“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble…” She murmured, more to put on a polite front than anything else. “I know I’m in a bit of a spot, but we could have waited until a better time.”

“Sweetheart, my husband and I run a country. There’s no such thing as a ‘better time’ for just about anything.” The woman smiled, laying a hand on the door handle and adding a parting, “And besides, Ghira and I usually have to hire proper Hunters to deal with Minotaurs. That you did earned at least this much from us. Okay?”

“Yeah.” She smiled, “I’ll, uh, just wait here.”

“You know, you play the ‘lost, confused young woman’ role fairly well.” Spark said from behind her as soon as the Faunus had vanished behind the door. 

And, presumably, moved far enough away Spark knew she couldn’t hear. His sensors were convenient like that.

“Shut it.”

“You know, I can speak without moving my mouth…”

“Yeah, yeah.” She rolled her eyes and stepped back, leaning against the wall opposite the door and folding her arms over her chest. “I was fishing for information on Atlas, since I’m apparently from there. Playing the part she expects makes that easier.”

“True enough.” Spark nodded, hands clasped behind his waist as he turned an impassive, metal look on her. “And my, my, but you do make an excellent, I believe the term now is, spook when you want to, don’t you?”

“Yes I do.” She grimaced, “And yes, I hate it. But more importantly, what do you think?”

“About?”

“Her.” 

“She seems an honest, open sort.” He answered thoughtfully after a moment, “Scans put her at around middle-age, or so it would seem. And it appears she’s had at least one child.”

“You can tell?”

“Easily, yes.” He answered instantly, without even a moment to mull it over or consider it. “Internal and epidermal scarring was detected around the appropriate regions for it. Combined with her age, and the care with which she speaks of her husband, I find that more likely than any other scenario. Then there’s her kindly attitude towards you, when most other Faunus have been rather cool towards you thus far.”

“Why do you think that’s important?” She asked, “It could mean nothing at all.”

“You are Human.” He answered simply, “They are not. And I have seen no Humans that I could positively identify since coming here, either.”

“We’ve spoken to maybe ten of them.” She argued simply, “I think gauging how they treat Humans based on a sample size of less than a dozen and one walk through the city is a bit of a weak claim.”

“Perhaps.” He nodded but pressed on, speaking with that quiet surety he often did when he was so certain he was in the right. “And yet, the guard at the door was rather cold at the implication of you losing your crew in the ocean. Further, the cool attitude and heated looks I have recorded are far too consistent for it not to be the norm.”

“The Captain treated me well.” She argued, deflating almost immediately, “Though he… Didn’t have nice words for Humans as a whole, really.”

“My sentiments exactly, and another piece of evidence leading to my ultimate conclusion.” Spark answered quietly, looking towards the door. “I have a feeling there is more here to challenge you than a lack of work. And I think that Missus Belladonna’s maternal instincts are to thank for her willingness to go out of her way for you. I believe she has a daughter.”

“Down to the biological essentialism are we?”

“Not… Quite. Just because a chemical state in her brain precipitated a decision doesn’t mean it wasn’t her free choice and- You’re teasing me again.” He sighed, shaking his metal head at the little smirk she shot him, “I do so hate it when you do that to me, Rion.”

“Well that makes one of us.” She laughed, waving him off when he scowled, metal face back-lighting in an unamused purple. “Oh relax, Spark. I’m just having a little bit of fun while I try not to have a heart attack over here about everything.”

“We’ll deal with it, Rion.” Spark promised her, “I know not how, but we will deal with this and get back to what is ours.”

“Yeah.” She nodded, “We will.”

“Yes. For now, though, let’s remain calm and focused. Hm?” She nodded and he returned the gesture, mechanical face smiling coolly at her before he stepped back and looked towards the door. “I sense motion headed our way.”

“Yep.” She didn’t need him to tell her, she could feel the heavy footsteps reverberating through the wooden floor under her with every measured step. “I’ll do the talking, Spark.”

“I assumed as much, yes.” He nodded, offering a last, quiet and parting, “Best of luck, Rion. I shall be right beside you if you need me.”

She didn’t get the chance to answer as the door was opened, a truly giant man standing in the gap and smiling down at her. He was at least eight feet tall, and wide enough for her to hide behind. Or for Spark to, almost, for that matter. His deep violet coat was left open, baring a stomach protector and a bare, heavily muscled and lightly scarred body for her to see and choke at.

Did he have to be made of granite and not know how shirts worked?

Really?

“You must be Rion.” The great man offered, smiling a smile that had far too many sharp teeth for her liking and offering a hand. Hesitantly, she took it and he smiled ever so slightly wider, “I am Ghira. Ghira Belladonna, the Chieftain of Menagerie and lucky husband to the woman you already met.”

“Yeah.” She nodded, fighting the slight feeling of claws on the back of her hand and the instinct to yank her own free for it. Forcing a smile, she said, “She’s a nice woman. Brought me to meet you once she found out what happened to me.”

“So she told me.” He nodded, stepping back and waving her in, “Please. We can talk in my office. About your pay, for one, and getting you a place to stay until you get back on your feet for another.”

“You don’t have to do that…”

“Oh please.” He laughed, a booming sound that reverberated right into and through her chest, then down into her gut. It wasn’t unpleasant but it wasn’t pleasant either, not that she could exactly do anything about it. “You fought Grimm and killed them, so you get paid for it. And anyone that can handle a Minotaur is someone I might like on payroll in case more of the black beasts happen by, too!”

“I suppose so…” And honestly, she was not about to seriously turn down any help tossed her way. Smiling, she stepped by and into the office, “Well, let’s get down to business, then.”

Inside, Ghira’s office was wide and warm, with a simple sitting area in the front and a raised and recessed office space in the back of the room. Shelves of books, well-worn with aging spines and once bold embroidering fading in places, and a cluster of old looking maps of what she assumed was Menagerie surrounded the old, cluttered desk. Taking a seat in his impressive, comfortable looking chair Ghira waved for her to sit across from him, in a far simpler but sturdy dark oak chair, backed by well-made looking leather and embroidered in a dull green.

Spark, of course, was left to stand behind her quietly.

“Your mech follows you everywhere?”

“Yes.” She nodded as she sat down, smiling pleasantly and telling the tale she’d thought up on their way through town. Waving a hand at him, “I built him myself, a couple years ago, from scavenged parts I… Tailored to get his look. Atlas tech and a scientist’s help and, well, I had an impressive bodyguard.”

“I’ll bet.” The man chuckled, pulling a drawer open and pulling out an old, decorated dark oak chest that he set on the desk between them. Fishing out a small iron key from a hidden pocket in the front of his vest he rumbled a small laugh, “Well, I suppose that means I only have to pay one of you, so I can’t mind much. But keep it’s weapons away while you’re here, alright?”

“I will.” She let her smile turn a bit frostier and added, quietly, “At least, as long as no one give me a reason not to.”

“I… Suppose that’s fair enough.” The man sighed, pulling out a thick stack of plastic looking cards and forcing a smile. “Alright then. You killed four Beowolves and a single Minotaur, according to the witnesses. One of the Beo’s was an Alpha, so… Four hundred Lien for the Minotaur, one hundred a piece for each of the lesser Beowolves and two hundred for the Alpha. That makes nine hundred Lien, then. Fair?”

“Sounds like, yeah.” As if she had any idea at all how much ‘Lien’ was worth…

“Alright, then.” He nodded, counting out what she had zero choice but to assume was nine hundred Lien worth of black plastic. Setting it down and closing up the box he asked quietly, “You said you scavenged the parts for your robot-”

“Spark.” She interrupted quietly, smiling politely when he raised an eyebrow in quiet question. “Sorry, I just realized I hadn’t actually said his name yet. He can be a bit snarky when I don't introduce him properly. Say hello, Spark.”

“Hello, Spark.” The machine mimicked without missing a beat, earning and ignoring a weary sigh from her. “I am Rion Forge’s bodyguard and companion, Guilty Spark. It is a pleasure to meet you, Chieftain.”

“You… Speak with a lot more personality than most automatons I’ve seen before.” Ghira murmured, eyeing first if and then her, hands slowly going through the cards in his hand. Counting them. “That’s… Some impressive programming.”

“Yeah, it is...” She murmured, affecting a forlorn, pained expression with the same acting skills she’d honed long ago, to get a better price for whatever she hauled in. “One of my crew, Lexa, she was… One hell of a programmer.”

“She’s one you lost, isn’t she?”

“Yeah.” She nodded quietly, “She is.”

“Ah, I… I see. Well, I’m sorry for your loss.” The large man rumbled, shrugging with a ‘fair enough’ expression on his face while he put the chest back in the drawer it had come from. “Anyway, you scavenged to get his parts, you said, so I’m assuming you’re a scavenger by trade or hobby.”

“Trade.” She said by way of answer, sighing dejectedly and then making a show of forcing herself to put aside the ‘sadness’ to move on. “I’ve been a scavenger for years now. It’s hard work, but everything has its uses, if you know how to work it. And if you’d permit me to say, I’m probably the best damn scavenger this side of Atlas.”

“Well I certainly believe you.” He rumbled another deep chuckle, waving a hand at Spark behind her, “Making something like him can’t have been easy, even with skilled help. Just getting the parts had to have been a nightmare.”

“A bit, but…” She affected a grimace and sighed, “I had an excellent crew helping me out.”

“I understand, Rion.” The man rumbled, letting the matter lie for a moment before sighing and reclining in his chair. “Well, I happen to have been looking for someone that could scout and find things for me, recently. Deposits, places for waystations along the coast and inland, those sorts of things.”

“And you’re looking at me?” She asked quietly, “Not one of your guards? Or a hunter?”

“We don’t have many Huntresses or Huntsmen on hand as it is, protecting people from Grimm along the nearby coasts and in the nearby forests, where we get our wood.” The Chieftain answered simply, turning to wave a hand up at the map behind him and thus confirming it to be Menagerie’s continent. “Our little nation isn’t a true Kingdom, not like the Big Four. Manpower is always hard-pressed to meet out needs. Lien, too. Hunters are rare and expensive.”

“Meaning you’re having problems with getting them on both ends.” She filled in knowingly. Screwed for raw population for a percentage to be Hunters, which sounded definitively special from the phrasing. And screwed for Lien to pay outsiders to do it for them. “I’m not a Hunter, though, you know.”

“I know.” He nodded, turning and pointing at Spark. “But he was able to handle a Minotaur on his own, and with what looks like little to no real damage. So I’m fairly certain whatever you run up on, you’ll be just fine.”

“How certain?”

“Certain enough to offer you the job. Unsure enough to make it a good offer, with a lot of benefits.” The man said simply, shrugging evasively, smiling apologetically for it, “Room and board here at the manor, between jobs. Daily wage of a hundred Lien around it, and contract payments per Grimm slain and for each job, negotiated as they come.”

“Sounds more than fair.” She murmured unsurely, “But I’d need more than just a room and a direction to go.”

“Such as?”

“Weapons, ammunition, equipment for actually doing the scavenging and traveling supplies to start.” 

“I can’t exactly afford to outfit you very much.” He murmured quietly, “I can at least see you provided a small ship of some manner, to haul whatever you find. But tools and the like… Well, I’m sorry, but you will need to see that sorted on your own.”

“Throw in local maps and the title on the boat and I guess I can sort the rest out on my own.” Strictly speaking, a lot of that could very easily be provided by Spark himself. But the man didn’t know that, so she needed to at least look like she was resigned to a bit of a rough deal. “Can we make that work, at least?”

“We can.” The man smiled, obviously relieved, “I can see you given a crew, too, if you need it.”

“I’ll be fine.” She grunted, waving a hand at the robot and putting on her best grimace, “He can keep watch while I rest and… I’m not ready for a new crew. Not yet.”

“I understand.” Ghira rumbled, raising one brow questioningly, “But you’ll take the job, at least?”

“I will.” She smiled, “What have you got for me first?”

XxX----XxX----XxX

Dasgun :

^-^

Green the Ryno :

The timeframe is, for the moment, meant to be obtuse somewhat. However, the clever will notice a few things even in chapter one that point out some of that already! Though, events in this and other chapters may spoil that game some.

XD

Rook 435 :

Gib has read it and enjoyed it. He knows the content more than I do but then he is willing too pay me for more of them, so that rings of an interesting story to me!

Australian Dealer :

Glad you enjoyed it!

The Alaskan Kid :

I hope you continue to enjoy!

Leviticus XIII :

This is a separate story. But I hope you enjoy it anyway!


	3. The Apartment

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Official Supporters: 

Adeptus, Private Wilger

Commissioner, Gib, Espa Cole

Settled Reader, Xager the Chaos King

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM me for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : https://discord.gg/2UZncAm

Second link here, remove ( and ) and it SHOULD work : D(i)scord(.)gg(slash)kfhkfUb

I have a kofi account now, too, under this name for those interested.

Beta(s) : 

XxX----XxX----XxX

Requested by:

Gib

XxX----XxX----XxX

Half an hour later, and with a folder full of jobs for her to review under her arm, Rion and Spark were being led through the Manor’s winding halls by a pair of the house’s lightly armored guards. It was late in the day, now, and almost eerily quiet. At least, aside from drifting and faint voices she couldn’t make out, warped by the distance and the walls they passed through, and their own footfalls. Neither the man or the woman so much as spoke to her, eyes ahead and shoulders straight, doing their jobs but otherwise entirely ignoring her and, seemingly, each other.

Which was… Fine, really, even if she didn’t quite understand the cold shoulder routine just yet.

But she could at least enjoy the peace and quiet, for however long it lasted.

“Here we are.” The woman, a thin, lithe Cat Faunus of some description, judging from her ears at least, said as they reached a door and the guards turned to them. Nodding to it, she explained mechanically while her companion watched on impassively, “It’s small, but you’ll find all the amenities you need inside. The bathroom is by the door, just inside, and we keep them well-stocked.”

“Thank you.” She smiled warmly, earning narrow, suspicious eyes from the other woman. Ignoring them, she sighed, “After my last couple of days? Well, a nice, hot shower sounds like absolute paradise.”

“I guess so…” The woman shrugged and added, quietly and boredly, “There’s a sitting area in the front for your machine to stand. In the back are dressers with several sets of spare clothes. Something ought to fit you.”

“I’m sure I’ll find something workable.” Her combat-skin was advanced enough to almost always be comfortable, but she’d have been lying if she said the idea of wearing actual clothes sometimes wasn’t nice in its own way. “Is there anything else?”

“No, that’s everything.” The guardswoman grunted, half-turning to leave and adding a polite, only slightly forced sounding, “Good night.”

She waited until they rounded a far corner and vanished to push open the door and step back, nodding for Spark to head in first. She had zero reason to even consider that Ghira would be laying a trap for her, after all the effort he and his wife had expended so far. And how impromptu it had been, as well. Khali had come to them, by all evidence, before going to see her husband and that meant that coordinating some trap would have been a lot harder. It all would have needed to have been conveyed while she explained things to the great bear of a cat, and Rion didn’t think there was enough time.

And, of course, she didn’t think they had any reason to do any of this. But still, trust when you have to, verify when you don’t.

“It’s clear, Rion.” Her machine companion said almost as soon as he was through the door. “Nothing is here, on scans or otherwise.”

“You’re sure?” In spite of her question, she followed the Forerunner into the room right away, sighing when he only paid her a nod. Clutching her folder under her arm she frowned, locking the door and pacing into the room, “Good, I do not need that kind of stress on top of everything else right now.”

“I’m sure.” He murmured as she surveyed the simple room they’d been given and he, in turn, watched her worriedly.

The room itself was simple, and rather like a dorm room. To one side of the door, occupying one of the two front corners, was a simple and bare wooden desk that she dropped the folder on. The opposite corner was filled by a room that on its own took up about a fifth of the total space, with a simple wooden door marked out by a crescent moon barely a foot away from the door into the hallway they'd come from.

The bathroom, she supposed, based on the sign on the door and the complete lack of any other doors that looked like they could lead to the same.

Around the corner of the bathroom was a wardrobe, pressed against the wall made by the room’s curve. The wall opposite was mostly bare, occupied only by a wide, starkly empty, shelf that looked perfect for books and binders. So close to the desk, it looked like a ready to use office set-up. One just waiting for a computer terminal to work on, and folders and files to fill the shelves.

Comparatively, the simple twin sized bed that was pressed to the center of the back wall, which stood just as bare as the rest, was a bit… Underwhelming, in a way.

“I think it’s rather quaint.” Spark said when she said as much, crossing the room to inspect the thin linen blanket. “Anything heavier and you’d be sweating through the night.”

“Which would probably not lead to the best sleep.”

“No, it wouldn’t.” He shook his head, turning to look at her and chuckling, face lighting in a cool, contented blue, “Assuming you could sleep at all, that is.”

“Yeah… Assuming I could.” She groaned as she fell into the comfortable office chair and turned, flicking open the folder and frowning. 

Now she could sit again, and in the quiet where she could relax, she could feel all the aches of the day finally slam into her, draining her remaining energy. Then came the realization of how alone she was, now, even with the Belladonna’s kindness surrounding her. Ship, crew, her role- All gone, and without a single inkling as to why or how.

“You’re sure you can’t access the Domain?” She asked, pinching the bridge of her nose and forcing herself to skim the files again. “You don’t have… Something that can help us figure out what the hell is happening, here?”

“No and no. Unfortunately, nothing has changed about that just yet.” The machine answered simply, crossing the space far more quietly than his massive frame should have allowed and laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. “And you know I’d have already said something otherwise, Rion. I’m just as eager to get back to everyone as you are. And just as worried about how we got here, and why the Domain is out of reach.”

“Yeah, I know. I just… Forget it, for now, I guess.” She sighed, shaking her head and turning back to the folder. “Let’s see… There was a caravan that went missing a few miles inland along the Eastern coast, and the Chieftain needs someone to survey the Southern one for any changes after recent tectonics.”

“Rion…”

“There are also a few Hunts we could do nearer to town, while we get our bearings.” She added, shuffling aside the top papers to look them over idly. “We don’t actually have a boat, yet, so those might be better to earn some cash to keep us afloat for now. He didn’t give us anything much stronger than what you already killed, he said, so it should be-”

“Fine, yes, since I handled the Minotaur without much trouble. Or, well, any, really.” Spark grunted, slipping a hand in under hers and tugging the folder away. Holding them up and out of her reach when she stood to take them back, he pushed her towards the door, “I can look over them for us while you get a shower and rest.”

“I’m-”

“If you say you’re fine I will store the paperwork in a subspace compartment.” He threatened quietly, making her sigh irritably. 

“You can’t do that.” She challenged, “You’re cut off. How can you get to your subspace compartments?”

“I’m rather afraid I don’t have the foggiest idea, unfortunately. But if I couldn;t then I wouldn’t be able to give you weaponry, or call on Promethean drones to aid us. I can do that so you know I can do this, too.” He smiled with the threat, and left it to hang for a long, quiet moment. Then, quietly, he added, “You have been through a lot and unlike me, you need sleep. All of this can be dealt with in the morning, after breakfast.”

“...Alright.” She finally relented, as aggravated as she was touched by her friend’s concern, even as forceful as he was being about it. “You know my sizes for clothing?”

“I do now.” He nodded, flicking a gaze up and down her and no doubt scanning every inch of her. Setting aside that he probably had files on her cup size, among other things, she sighed and let him go on. “I’ll have some clothes set out on the desk for you when you’re done with your shower.”

“Thanks.” She nodded, turning for the bathroom, “And who knows, maybe some rest will do me good.”

“Hopefully.” The ancient man nodded as she shut the door. After a heartbeat he added through the door, “And I have a preference for hunting jobs, right now. I want to see just how dangerous these ‘Grimm’ truly are to us, and I need a better sample size.”

“Fine by me.” She called back, “But if you get me killed I will haunt your synthetic ass.”

“And not the rest of me?” He chuckled, “You know ghosts aren’t real.”

“There’s giant friggin’ monsters that turn to smoke.” She shot back playfully, grinning as hot water began to spray from the faucet and she stood to undress. “I don’t know shit about what’s real or not, now. Who knows, maybe magic exists, too? Or gods?”

“Hah.” The Promethean laughed, “Unlikely, to say the least.”

“Yeah.” She chuckled under her breath, “That would be insane.”

XxX----XxX----XxX

Once he heard the water running, and his semi-active scans silhouetted a Human form in the shower, Guilty Spark sighed and shook his mechanized head. Really, even with everything that had happened and that was coming, she still felt like she had to push herself so far and so hard? It was ridiculous, really…

Then again, it was so very like her to do that, so he couldn’t really be angry with her. Not really. Or, he could, but he’d be a self-contradicting mess. But then again, that was just the fun bit of being a Human, wasn’t it?

Ah, this was all so confusing…

“Humans are complicated, though. And I guess that applies to me, too… Troublesome.” He murmured quietly, and almost prophetically, since a gentle knock on the door sounded out a heartbeat later. A quick scan pinged a single thin woman and what a deeper scan revealed was food, presumably for Rion.

For a moment, he hesitated to answer, flicking a gaze at the closed bathroom and humming.

“A-Ah.” The young looking and small woman blinked up at him when he tugged the door open, looming over her in what he was certain would be an intimidating way. The woman blinked, the freckles of her face - scales, it turned out, after a brief and more in-depth scan - shifting to an odd blue as she backed up a step and then curtsied stiffly and offered the tray to him. “Food for, um, your… Mistress?”

“My captain, actually.” He corrected stiffly, taking the little silver tray and scanning it idly, and then doing the same to her. The food was clean, as was she, aside from a thin, patterned sword on her hip. But she wore it openly, unlike how he’d expect anyone that didn’t belong to do, and so he nodded. “Thank you for the food, Miss…?”

“A-Amy.” The woman smiled, her heart beating up ever so slightly. For a lie or for anxiety over him, he couldn’t tell, though. A more in-depth scan confirmed the food was safe, though, and he had little evidence to suspect her, so he leaned on the latter. Smiling, she bowed and turned to leave, “Good night.”

“And to you.” He hummed, watching her leave until she vanished around a corner. Shutting the door, he set the food down and murmured, “Curious… They didn’t mention sending us food.”

“Did I hear a knock?” Rion called from the bathroom, tugging him from his thoughts. 

“Yes.” He called back, “A servant with your dinner.”

For the third time he scanned the food, even going so far as to remove the lid and prod one of the fish, sampling it. Nothing unusual in any way… It was perfectly safe, then. Maybe they had just decided to send her something? Even though it hadn’t been mentioned? That was the most likely, the most sensible, assumption. But…

Something still had him anxious and he resolved to check her food each night, just to be safe.

XxX----XxX----XxX

A bit short but I’m ill and this is what I could manage.

I don’t have the plague, tho, just a stomach bug.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Smokey Panda :

I mean… It is Spark. XD

Australian Dealer :

Maybe~


	4. The Little Lizard

XxX----XxX----XxX

Official Supporters: 

Fanatical Fucking Read, ScrubLord Yoda

Adeptus, Private Wilger

Commissioner, Gib, Espa Cole

Settled Reader, Xager the Chaos King

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM me for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : https://discord.gg/2UZncAm

Second link here, remove ( and ) and it SHOULD work : D(i)scord(.)gg(slash)kfhkfUb

I have a kofi account now, too, under this name for those interested.

Beta(s) : 

XxX----XxX----XxX

Requested by:

Gib

XxX----XxX----XxX

The bed she’d been given along with the spare room was shockingly comfortable, with fine cotton sheets and an equally comfortable blanket. Or at least, it was better than what she’d had in her cabin back on her ship. A hard day, a stomach full of good, much better than her usual fare at least, food and an absolutely searing hot shower meant that she didn’t so much ‘go to bed’ as ‘collapse on it and pass out’.

Spark, being the good friend he was, at least had the dignity not to tease her for that.

“Good morning, I believe the term is ‘sleeping beauty’.” He said instead, when she rolled over and blinked, bleary eyed from sleep, up at the smiling machine that had shaken her awake. “There’s breakfast. And I know why the Faunus dislike you so much.”

“And?”

“It’s, well…” He paused, hesitating on his way to the desk for a heartbeat before moving on to pluck the top off the little tray and let the smell of fish, eggs and something sweet break free to permeate the room. “Complicated. Enough that we need to have a conversation about it, so we- Or you, I suppose, can decide how to handle it.”

“Ah.” She nodded, sitting up on the bed and pinching the bridge of her nose and then rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Coffee?”

“Yes, actually.” Spark answered, sounding genuinely impressed at its mere presence. She heard him trundle towards her and, after a moment, he said, “Here.”

“Ah…” What he was holding was a somewhat long thermos made of dark grey steel. Taking him from it, it was warm, nearly hot, to the touch and when she unscrewed it she could smell the sweet nectar of the gods that was hot, liquid caffeine. Taking a sip, it was rich and dark, if a bit bitter.

Which made it absolutely perfect for waking up.

“It’s… Actually pretty good. Really good, actually. I think I’m getting… Chocolate?” She blinked in surprise, flicking a questioning look to her mechanical companion.

“It does make a bit of sense that a tropical nation grows tropical produce.” Spark answered amusedly, turning one of his cool, blue smiles on her as he brought over the tray of food and set it on the bed beside her. Holding a fork out for her he added teasingly, “I do hope you can eat without ruining the bed you seem to have enjoyed so much.”

“Oh ha ha.” She sighed, rolling her eyes and snatching the fork away. Her meal was simple, grilled fish, a cheese filled omelette and a trio of smallish, seemingly chocolate muffins as a finisher. Taking a bite, she grunted, “Time?”

“Just a bit before eight.” The machine answered mechanically before adding with another smirk, “That’s in the morning, by the by.”

“I slept deep but I didn’t sleep that deep, Spark.” She chuckled, rolling her eyes and taking a bite of her food. It was good, too, but she didn’t pay it too much attention. Instead she asked, “What did you find out?”

“About?”

“You know what.”

“I do.” He admitted, nodding his great metal head, “I simply wanted to let you enjoy your food, first.”

“Is it that bad…?”

“Oh, yes.” He nodded, “It very much is that bad, Rion. So bad in fact that I have added a second Watcher to the first I have on constant overwatch, in case anyone tries to kill you.”

“Oh.” She blinked, “That, uh… That is pretty bad.”

“Indeed.”

“Fine.” She sighed, setting the plate on her lap, “You can talk while I eat, though. I don’t want to waste time when I could be out there, working.”

“As you say… And I know you’re too damn stubborn not to make me, now you’ve decided this is how we’re doing this.” The machine sighed, shaking its great metal head unsurely for not the first time. “It starts with the Great War, more or less, which happened a few decades ago…”

XxX----XxX----XxX

As always, Ilia kept her head down and her mouth shut while she made her way through the dockside warehouse the Menagerie White Fang operated out of. 

It was a bit old, and a bit run down from years of use since its decades past construction and the poor maintenance some owners had let it suffer from. But it was two-story, with a handful of rooms tucked away on the top floor that a little elbow grease could whip into shape, and plenty of storage space for whatever the Fang needed on the first floor. Weapons, armor, food, valuables, whatever needed storing was kept down there, along with a little suite towards the front made of cheap drywall that served as a pseudo-barracks that White Fang soldiers used to rest between heading out on jobs from run of the mill all the way to Grimm hunting.

She liked it down there, with the rank and file who were doing real work for Menagerie directly.

Unfortunately, she didn’t spend much of any time down there.

Instead, she spent most of her time on the top floor, where the ‘upper ranks’ and ‘special persons’ the Fang employed worked on more… Important and special projects. The old, worn floors and walls had been long since replaced by fine woodworking and lighting, with rich, red, Menagerie made carpets and tapestries covering the floors and walls. Security for the floor below was relegated mostly to one man named Francis that stood by the door and his brother Terrence that took over when he wasn’t. 

Up here, though?

Heavy armor, fit for combat, and a half dozen foot patrols of rifle-armed men and women with tight lips and masks on at all times. Each were veterans, almost always with scars to show as much. And each shot her a glare as she skulked by, shoulders scrunched up and eyes downcast warily.

Blake would have hated it… And the work that went on up here, too.

“If she hadn’t run away… The damn coward.” She murmured bitterly under her breath, shaking her head as she approached the farthest back, most secure room of the floor.

Like the rest of the floor, the door was ornate, made of dark oak and inlaid in dull grey iron. The knob was heavy and detailed to look like a closed fist, with a large and reinforced lock above it. And in the center was a knocker, like the kind one normally used for their front door. Except that it was fashioned into a facsimile of their masks, snarling angrily like a Grimm about to take her throat out.

Her mind, of course, leapt to Adam.

“Ah, Ilia. We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She nearly leapt out of her skin, snapping around and slamming against the wall with one hand on Lightning Lash’s hilt. Chuckling, Fennec shot his larger brother a look before turning back to her. “Did we… Frighten you?”

“No.” The lie was instinctive, and she regretted it instantly.. Forcing herself to relax and unhand her weapon she chuckled weakly and rubbed the back of her neck, “I, uh… I was thinking, and you startled me. That’s all.”

“Perhaps you should work on that.” Corsac grunted, sliding by her to open the door and then stepping in, holding it open and adding with a smile, “Before you stop paying attention and walk into trouble.”

“Yeah.” She nodded, taking the invitation and stepping in with Fennec behind her. “I’ll watch where I walk, uh, Sir. I promise.”

“Good.” Fennec said from behind her, shutting and, she noticed with no small amount of anxiety, locking the door. Stepping by he gestured for her to follow and grunted, shortly, “Report what you found, now, please.”

“W-Well, um…” She took a long, deep breath, and started from the beginning, like she’d rehearsed in bed the night before. “So, Adam White is a worker that’s renovating a handful of the back bathrooms. I slip him a hundred Lien and give him a heads up on, uh, anything blowing up and he says he’ll let me in through the work access.”

“And the other workers…?”

“At night, from about nine at night to five in the morning, he’s the only one there.” She answered quickly, smiling at how good her luck had been. “He’s mostly just there to make sure none of the work gets undone by someone using the wrong bathroom or something. Going into the manor you get checked, but coming out you don’t, so anytime in there is a great time to slip in.”

“I see.” Corsac murmured as they turned a corner into a wide room that was open to the hallway, without any doors in the way. Taking a seat at one of two chairs to either side of a crackling fireplace, the man added, “We can use that time to funnel in and out whatever we like.”

“Indeed.” Fennec nodded, easing into the other seat and leaving her to stand in the, frankly, very well-decorated and wealthy looking den. 

One wall was nothing but bookshelves, while the back one, the one that had the hallway open out from its corner, sported a massive, oil painting of Sienna Khan with a little pedestal in front of it. The fireplace was made of a deep, rich looking black stone she couldn’t identify and the chairs were even leather-backed, with comfortable looking cloth fronts. It looked more like she’d expect someone like Jacques Schnee’s den to look like than a supposedly low-scale movement of freedom fighters. 

And she would know, she’d been in his corporate office’s den once, in Atlas, years and years ago.

“Good work, Ilia.” Fennec finally said after a long moment to think and, from the way he was looking at it and the hand he held out towards it, to enjoy the warm fire. “With an access point like that, our next steps will be far more easily managed than we feared.”

“Our next steps…?”

“Not for you to know.” Corsac grunted sharply, smiling when her eyes snapped to him and her scales lit a fearful shade of silver. “At least,” he relaxed, “not yet. For now, continue your report.”

“O-Of course.” She nodded sheepishly, “The manor itself matches the blueprints you showed me almost to a tee. And what is changed are mostly tertiary rooms. Places we don’t need to worry about.”

“How so?”

“Extra bedrooms, extra bathrooms, a few extra offices where receptionists and low-end, useless management work. Those sorts of things.” She explained quickly, having used the excuse of ‘checking the trash cans’ to rummage through a few folders of each over the night. It had been nasty work, and she’d had to actually change the trash out to boot to keep her cover, but it had worked. “Everything else is exactly the same and I made sure to sketch out a map of the changes. Next time, I’ll check the map against what I see and make sure, so we can revise our schematics.”

“Excellent work.” Corsac smiled, “And a stunning display of insight and initiative to boot. Right, brother?”

“Right.” Fennec agreed almost instantly, withdrawing the hand he’d been using to enjoy the fire and instead resting his chin on it, with an elbow on the arm of his chair. “All of this information could have been relayed to your handler, though. Yuma would have informed us just as well as you did, if you briefed him properly.”

“I-I know, Sir.”

“Then why did you say you wanted to see us personally?”

“Because I saw something else, Sir.” She answered swiftly, reaching into the front of her jumper to tug out a loose stack of papers out from where breasts would have been if she’d been a bit more fortunate and offering it to the smaller of the Fennecs. “Paperwork, detailing the purchasing of a boat, provisions for a trip, anda few other sundries. All to be awarded to a Human woman named Rion Forge.”

“The one that the fishing boat dredged up yesterday…?”

“Yes, that one.” She nodded, handing the paperwork over to Corsac when Fennec gestured for her to. While he read through the somewhat crumpled files she definitely hadn’t forgotten she’d tucked into her jumper when she crashed for the night, she went on, “I went to deliver some food to them and the machine answered the door. I only got one good look at it, but… It’s advanced.”

“How advanced?”

“More advanced than anything Atlas has been deploying.” She answered simply, folding her arms and grimacing while she went on, “I’ve fought enough of the K series to know just how limited they are. This, though? It speaks and, as hard as it tried, I could… I could see emotions in its face.”

“Emotions?” Corsac grunted, looking to her for confirmation and then to his brother when she nodded. “You don’t think… That old cripple?”

“Doubtful.” Fennec murmured, drumming a finger on his chin and frowning deeply. Like he’d heard some particularly bad news. Which, for all she knew, he just might have. “He prefers more Human appearances. This, as vaguely Humanoid as it may be, is a far cry from his design philosophies according to everything we’ve seen and read.”

“But he’s the only one capable…”

“That we know of.” Fennec nodded, turning a look on Ilia after a heartbeat and humming in thought. Finally, he grunted, “Ilia.”

“Y-Yes?” And damn her for stuttering, too. More firmly, she asked, “What is it?”

“Keep returning to the Manor.” He ordered simply, turning his gaze back to the fire in the fireplace and watching it pensively. “Map it out in full, confirm every nook and cranny. When our next step comes, your information will be critical to our success.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And,” he added as she turned to leave, “keep an eye on this ‘Forge’. And her machine, too. If you see any more information, about either of them or their activities, it comes to us. She could be a threat to every Faunus on Menagerie, and one that absolute fool of a Chieftain is only helping to undermine us. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” She nodded again.

“And please.” Fennec smiled, “We’re both Faunus, and members of the Fang. Call me ‘Brother’.”

XxX----XxX----XxX

“Well…” She sighed, pushing the last of her eggs around her plate with a grimace and then finally sighing. She’d just gotten up but this crap had ripped her energy right out of her, and now she wanted to go back to bed. “That all strikes a bit closer to home than I’d like, Spark.”

“Indeed.” The machine nodded, “And I wager that it spoiled your meal, too. Didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” She sighed, “It did that.”

Still, she grimaced and tucked into the last fifth of her meal, forcing it down. Literal decades of the war with the Covenant had forced the habit of leaving food uneaten out of most people. And she was very much not an exception to that rule, even if her stomach turned at the thought of food after everything she’d heard. And, of course, that was setting aside what would probably be an insult if she wasted the food.

And she didn’t fancy getting screwed from both ends like that.

“What should we do about it?” Spark asked after a moment of quiet, “This is a more dangerous place than I suspected for one of us.”

“There’s not much we can do.” She pointed out, “We’re stuck here.”

“True.” He sighed, “Unfortunate. Just like this whole Faunus - Human mess.”

“I guess this kind of shit is just Human nature after all…” She sighed after another couple minutes spent wolfing down the last of the admittedly delicious meal. When Spark only hummed, she let the thought run on aimlessly while she cleaned up and stood, toting the dishes to the desk. “Back on Earth, we had our own share of this exact kind of shit… Discrimination, forced immigrations, the works.”

“I am aware.” Spark said, tapping the side of his metal cranium when she turned. “I did study modern Humans once that unfortunate fiasco with me- With the,’ he corrected himself forcefully, flashing an angry red for a heartbeat before fading to a cooler blue again, “-ring. And again, once I was recovered by the UNSC. Curiosity, in both cases, but…”

“You learned.” She nodded, pursing her lips and then heading for the wardrobe. “Back to me, Spark.”

“I’m a several millennia old AI.” He groused, “I don’t care about your various pieces of fat, Rion.”

“Yeah, sure.” She grunted, rolling her eyes and shooting him an entirely unconvinced look. “I don’t believe you, so. Turn. Around. Or I will put duct tape over your eyes.”

“I can see through duct tape.” He pointed out even as he, begrudgingly, turned around and left her to fish through the clean clothes. After a moment of lifting shirts up to size herself the machine added, amusedly, “Middle shelf, left side. That’s where I found things in your size last night, and I saw normal clothes beside it.”

“Thanks.” She grunted, grabbing the loose khaki shirt and pants and slipping out of the also loose khaki clothes she’d slept in. Quietly, she looked herself over and murmured, “It’s not exactly fashionable but her, if it works it works.”

“Indeed.” Spark nodded, turning around lazily and waving a hand to the neatly folded body glove on the desk. “I presume I am to carry that, then?”

“Well,” she smiled, “you are meant to be an android serving me, aren’t you?”

“I already hate this.” Spark sighed, trundling over to pick up the suit and draping it over an arm he held out in front of him. In a way, he looked almost like a butler, albeit a Forerunner one, as he turned back to her and asked, “Why can’t you be the android servant and I be the scavenger captain lording over you?”

“Because I’m not just under ten feet tall and blue?”

“Ah.” He chuckled, “Good point.”

“Yep.” She nodded, turning for the door and adding over a shoulder to him, “Now, I think we have a boat waiting for us. So let’s go find the Chieftain.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Spark snarked boredly, trailing along behind her dutifully. “Whatever you say, Mistress. For I am but a humble machine capable of murdering essentially anything within ten feet. And toting around clothing, of course.”

XxX----XxX----XxX

Combine 117 :

No magic at aaaaaaallll.


	5. Boating For Misplaced Forges

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Official Supporters: 

Fanatical Fucking Reader, ScrubLord Yoda

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Commissioner, Gib, Espa Cole

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Beta(s) : 

XxX----XxX----XxX

Requested by:

Gib

XxX----XxX----XxX

Outside, the sky was overcast and grey and black, with sheets of rain falling intermittently all around Kuo Kuana and in it. The clouds were thick and hid the sun almost entirely, except for the rare lances of bright, golden god rays that danced across the city wherever the clouds thinned enough. Sometimes, those same lances of light would score through sheets of the randomly falling rain and cast bright prisms of light across the sky. It was… Genuinely beautiful.

Unfortunately, all the light rain had done was make it absolutely swelteringly humid, so it was kind of hard to appreciate it.

“You get used to it, eventually.” Khali promised, chuckling when she turned a disbelieving look on her, so soaked she was certain that the thin clothes weren’t doing a damn thing to keep her modest. “And… The boat has air conditioning?”

“I certainly hope so…”

The woman only chuckled once again as they walked through Menagerie’s somewhat wild, winding, and often roughly laid streets. As they walked she felt as many times as saw the eyes of the Faunus on her. Suspicion, anger, fear- Emotions she could understand the source of, now, as literally misplaced as they were given she was possibly not quite the same species as Humans on Remnant were. Though that was… Something that would need to be looked into, when they had time.

Not that they could possibly know that, of course.

“I suspected an Atlesian’s ship would, and suggested that Ghira try and find one with one.” Khali explained quietly, pointedly meeting some of those aggressive gazes with impassive, questioning little smiles of her own. “He told me all of it was handled, so I’m assuming that it has one.”

“Ah.” She was half-right, at least. Her ship did have air conditioning, even if it wasn’t the kind of ship Khali was thinking about. “Thanks, Miss Belladonna. I’m going to enjoy it, I’m sure.”

“It’s nothing.” The woman smiled, “And please, call me Khali.”

“But-”

“Miss Forge, you’re going to be living and work with us for some time, even if it’s only so that you can get home.” Khali cut her off, turning off the path to stand in a mostly empty spot beside the road and in front of a tall, old looking house. Smile fading, the woman added, “You’re also the first Human to be welcomed to Menagerie like this. I’m certain that you understand completely how important that is.”

“I do.” Now, at least. “Especially after the Fall of Beacon. Things are tense.”

“They are, yes, to sell it all short. And my husband and I are doing every single thing we can to prevent more violence.” The woman answered, flicking her gaze to each of the building’s windows, ears flicking agitatedly and searchingly as she spoke. Stepping forward, the Faunus laid a hand on Rion’s shoulder and smiled, “My husband didn't really want me to tell you this, but… You should know how much is resting on this all working.”

“I understand.” She nodded, face grim as she turned a look on Spark. His eyes met hers for a brief moment, colors shifting from blue to a resolute steel color and back, and she turned a smile on the Faunus. “We won’t let you down, Miss- Khali.”

“Thank you, Miss Forge.” Khali smiled, turning to lead them on, “We’re nearly to the docks, so-”

“Rion.”

“Hm?”

“My name is Rion.” She said quietly, running the rag over her neck idly as she stepped up to the woman’s side. “If you’re going to have me calling you Khali, then you can call me Rion. It has to go both ways.”’

“I suppose so.” Khali smiled, turning again to lead her back on the path, “Come on then, Rion. We’re almost there, as I said.”

Their conversation done, and a bit more information about her situation for Rion to mull over, they reached the docks inside a few more minutes. And, much to her reliefi, into the more open coastline that stretched along the one end of Kuo Kuana, where a cooler breeze was blowing in off the sea. The smell of fish, salt and rain was an odd mix but, after a second to adjust to it, one that she honestly found kind of… Relaxing in a way she couldn’t really manage to place.

Not that she was complaining, of course.

“Chieftess Belladonna!”

“Oh no…” Khali murmured so lowly Rion barely heard her over the sounds of the docks, where hundreds of men and women worked on dozens of mostly wooden ships, hauling in fish and crates in almost equal measure. Turnig, the Faunus smiled widely and called back, “Corsac! Fennec! A pleasure.”

“Rest assured that the pleasure is all ours.” The smaller of the two said, his fox-like ears ramrod straight atop his head and turned on the two of them. He bowed his head and his larger brother did the same, tail swishing behind him ever so slightly. Straightening, he said, “It’s a surprise to see you out and about, Chieftess. We were told you were busy and could not make a meeting today.”

“You were told correctly, too.” Khali said, turning to slip an arm behind Rion, settling on the small of her back to nudge her forward. “I’m arranging pay and supply for Miss Rion Forge, here. She and her machine crashed on the coastline, recently, and slew several Grimm. She’s agreed to work with us for the time being until they can get home.”

“Hm.” The taller one hummed, eyes roving over her searchingly. After a moment, he raised an eyebrow neatly and said, quietly, “I don’t see any features on her, Chieftess.”

“You wouldn’t.” Khali said after turning a questioning look on her and Rion nodded. “She’s Human, after all.”

“Ah… I see. That’s a rather interesting piece of information, Chieftess.” The two exchanged a long look, brows narrow and mouths pinched down in obvious distaste. Turning back to them, the smaller forced a smile and nodded his head politely in her direction, “A pleasure to meet you then, Human. I’m Fennec, and this is my brother, Corsac.”

“Rion Forge.” She answered quietly, watching them warily and turning to let them see Spark. “This is my servitor, Guilty Spark.”

“I’d heard about a strange machine walking around on Menagerie recently. I suppose this would be it.” Fennec murmured interestedly, stepping forward to circle it slowly as he spoke, brushing by her seemingly without a care in the world. Once he’d completed his circle he stopped, sliding back to his brother’s side and asking him, “Have you ever seen technology like this, Brother?”

“I have not.” He answered instantly, “Not in our travels, or our work, or in our conflicts with the Atlesian military. Truly an… Interesting design.”

“And name.” Fennec nodded, pursing his lips and smiling the kind of smile she would imagine on a slippery snake in a children’s cartoon. All sarcasm, pandering and just barely concealed disdain. “Do you mind if I ask what sort of name ‘Guilty Spark’ is, Human?”

“The kind of name his creator decided suited him.” She answered honestly, even if the Faunus would have no idea who the man-turned-machine was made by. “They’re dead, though, so you won’t be able to ask about it. Sorry.”

“No apologies are needed.” The man said, nodding his head, “My condolences for your lost crew.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, of course.” He said, turning to Khali and nodding again, “Well, we have our own work to see to, so we’ll leave you be, Chieftess. A good day to you both, and I look forward to another meeting in the future.”

With who, he didn’t say, the duo turning to vanish into the crowd without another word. She and Khali watched them go, too, and waited a moment more before the woman dared to huff a laugh and say, “Well, that went better than I expected it to.”

“Did it?”

“Corsac and Fennec speak for the majority of the White Fang here on Menagerie.” Khali explained while the crowds around them went about their business, most ignoring them outright. “I’d hoped not to run into them, and instead to introduce you to them properly after you had some work to your name. Something of substance to keep them from challenging your presence here.”

“That seems not to have worked out.” Spark said, the first words he’d spoken since they left. They made Khali jump and the machine turned to her to ask, quietly, “You did not tell them about my Mistress’ lost crew, did you.”

“No…”

“Then why did they offer their condolences?” Rion asked quietly, instantly catching on to what Spark was hinting at. Turning to the older woman, she said, “They knew about me already, somehow, Khali.”

“Oh.” She murmured, turning a worried look on the way the other two Faunus had gone and frowning deeply. “That’s… Rather troublesome, to say the very least.”

“Yeah.” Rion nodded, “What do we do about it?”

“For now? Nothing can be done. Not without starting a fight we can’t afford to have right now, at least...” Khali sighed, shaking her head and smoothing out her clothes anxiously. “You have work that will take you away from Kuo Kuana. My Ghira and I will talk about this while you’re gone and… Figure something out.”

“Alright.” And that would have to be enough, for now. So, setting that all aside, she forced a smile and asked, “So, where’s my new ship?”

“Right this way, though ‘new’ might not fit it all that well.” Khali smiled, seemingly glad to be moving on. As they walked, she explained, “The Chieftain has a small, personal dock-way near the edge of the docks themselves. It’s for us to send and receive mail, and supplies, or even travel, mainly, but with you working directly for us…”

“You don’t have to convince me, Khali.” She laughed, shaking her head and smiling warmly and, for once, genuinely. “Having a semi-private dock has been a dream of mine for years. Even if it’s, you know, not mine, exactly, it’s still a step in the right direction.”

“I understand.” She smiled as they walked, the two - or, well, three of them, really, even if Spark didn’t really count - falling into a comfortable silence as they walked.

It was… Kind of strange, really, how comfortable she felt walking through Menagerie’s docks. It was loud, with hundreds of workers and vehicles milling about to do their tasks, and the smell was something to behold. Sweat, fish, brine, salt, wood- All of it mixing together in a strange, potent smell that made her nose wrinkle every time she thought about it. And everyone either ignore her or turned glares on her, some of the older men and women even scowling and spitting as she passed.

She didn’t need any kind of research to know what that was supposed to mean.

But it was oddly comfortable, being there, in the noise. Even if she was still sweating so much everyone she passed was bound to be getting an eye full, if they cared to look. She wasn’t super happy about that, really, but she’d survived worse by far. And hey, at least here there weren’t huge aliens trying to kill everyone. Or ONI… Being ONI, for that matter.

“Here we are.” Khali finally said after a few long minutes of walking, when they reached a simple looking wooden dock fronted by two tall, wooden towers with a simple log gate between them. Raising her voice, she called out, “Raise the gate, please? We need in.”

“Right away, Ma’am.” One of the guards at the top said, waving a hand at the one in the other to join her. After a moment, the simple gate groaned and began to rise, pulled up by chains hidden behind the towers themselves that vanished under the docks into whatever pulley system had been built.

“Fancy.” She murmured as they stepped through, “In a… Rustic kind of way.”

“Honestly, we have got to replace that gate system.” She sighed as they stepped onto the wide, old boardwalk. It was actually mostly empty, aside from a few small craft at the end being fussed over by guards and workers both.“But finding the Lien for that when we have so many other, more important things, to be working on.”

“I mean,” Rion shrugged, “if it isn’t broken, don’t fix it. Right?”

“Right.” Khali said as they neared the end of the boardwalk and they came to a stop, “Well, here we are.”

The boat was pretty well in the norm for Menagerie, to put it concisely. It was long and wide, closer to a block of wood and metal than what she’d pictured when Ghira said ‘boat’. Then again it was technically a boat. Though it did at least have a proper prow, and it wasn’t quite square enough to just call it a barge, so she couldn’t complain too much about it. 

Also, it was free and she had no other real options, so… She had even less room to complain.

At the front, where the prow suddenly sloped into a prow that was too close to flat for it to be able to get any real speed, were a pair of massive pulleys. The space in the center was mostly empty, aside from a single large barrel of sorts that rose what looked like three feet off the top deck. Behind it was a squat boathouse of sorts, with a wide viewport where she presumed the captain’s wheel was and, at the back of it, a massive wood and metal paddle.

“Is this…?”

“A steam paddle system, yeah.” Ghira said suddenly, looming over her from behind and, when she turned, smiling warmly. Waving a hand at the old ship he explained, “The hull is Menagerie make, probably obviously, and for an old fishing boat at that. It was converted by a Saul Brown a few years back into a scrapper and underwater deposit collector, though, which is why the cranks are so large up front.”

“Why steam power, though?” Anything would probably be more efficient. Solar to electric, combustion, whatever.

“It's cheap.” Ghira shrugged simply, as if it were the most obvious reasoning he could come up with. “Oh, it’s got an electric secondary, Lightning Dust or cells will run that for you if you want. But this is cheap and easy. Fire Dust collects water as you sail, boils it for steam, and vents it out the back, over the paddle. Here in Menagerie its steam or a sail-ship, and I figured you’d prefer the freedom a steam-ship would offer.”

“Yeah, I would.” Sailing was nice, and free to boot, but if the wind was against you it was probably a pain. She shot Spark a look at her side for confirmation that it was a good idea and asked, pointedly, “I guess this will do the job.”

Slightly enough that it was almost impossible to notice, the machine bobbed its head once and then twice.

“I mean,” the man rumbled, rubbing the back of his head, “if you’d prefer a sailing ship rather than a steamer, I can-”

“No, no, it’s fine. Really, it’s not worth the effort.” She rushed to reassure him, turning and waving the man off before he could offer to trade it out. And in the process have her grounded for another day at the very least, for paperwork and to actually do the trade. Turning back to it she sighed quietly and then smiled, “A steam ship, though. Pretty old school, but if isn’t broken…”

“I should hope not.” ghira scoffed, paying his smaller wife a smile and adding, “I just paid for it. It best not be broken already!”

“It’s, uh, a saying.” She coughed awkwardly, “It means that if something works you don’t, ya know… Need to go trying to change it.”

“Ah.” Ghira nodded, smile dipping after a short second to think about what she’d said. Quietly, he asked, “Wait, but what if you have something better in mind?”

“Then… You replace it with the better thing.” She answered unsurely, rubbing the back of her neck with the towel and murmuring yet another swear in the vague direction of the weather. “It’s not saying you shouldn’t improve things, Chieftain, it’s just-”

“Ghira.” The man interrupted her with a rumble and a pleasant smile, arms folded over his chest. “Ghira, not Chieftain. We’re all friends here, after all, aren’t we?”

“Right. Ghira.” This level of open-ness was going to get something burned down or someone shot, she just knew it. They were way, way too relaxed for the leaders of what seemed to be a moderate country of some kind. At least by local standards. Still, “It’s just a saying, Chieftain Ghira-”

“Oh that’s just cheating…”

“-it doesn’t mean anything as serious as you’re acting like.” She laughed, ignoring his little murmur of indignation and turning to wave a hand at the boat. “So, how about you show me how the engine works, then? I’ll need to know, after all.”

“Of course.” The man nodded, turning towards an only somewhat rickety looking gangplank a few feet away. “ Everything you’ll need is loaded up already, no worries. I’ll show you where it’s all at. Just follow me.”

Smiling, she did just that, adding a tiny little prayer that the wooden plank would hold Spark’s bulk up.

XxX----XxX----XxX

We all see you, Fox Bois.

You ain’t slick.

-.-

XxX----XxX----XxX

Kpmh2001 :

Yeah, that’s what I’ve been aiming for. Good amounts of play off, support, snark and back snark and platonic intimacy. A hard balance to drop everyone into but hey, its been working out so far.

Reclaimer Sierra-G343 :

Thanks!

Smokey Panda : 

That is quite a compliment!

Combine 117 :

Yeah, I love that archetype, too. And yes, they will! Hue hue hue~!

Korbussite :

Yeah just a teeny, tiny wrench.

Dolsky :

(͡°╭͜ʖ╮͡°)


	6. 343 Pirate Be Gone, Part I

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Official Supporters: 

Fanatical Fucking Reader, ScrubLord Yoda

Adeptus, Private Wilger

Commissioner, Gib, Espa Cole

Settled Reader, Xager the Chaos King

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM me for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : https://discord.gg/2UZncAm

Second link here, remove ( and ) and it SHOULD work : D(i)scord(.)gg(slash)kfhkfUb

I have a kofi account now, too, under this name for those interested.

Beta(s) : 

XxX----XxX----XxX

Requested by:

Gib

XxX----XxX----XxX

“You have everything under control, then?” Ghira asked as he stepped onto the gangplank after nearly an hour of explanations about the ship’s systems, or lack thereof, really, since beyond a basic radar and radio rig in the bridge it didn’t have much. He hesitated, though, one foot on the decking and the other on the plank and his hand on his knee like a captain of old, “This isn’t an Atlas ship, after all. Everythings… A bit more hands on.”

“We’ve got it.” She smiled quietly, waving the large man off, “You have work to do and I have to get things in order and head out to do my job, too.”

“Heading straight out?”

“Yeah.” She smiled, “I don’t like to sit still for long, Chieftain. Especially when I’m banking on someone else’s charity.”

“It wasn’t charity-”

“It was an investment.” She smiled, raising her eyebrows challengingly, “And it’s one I think I should start paying back, now that I can. I wasn’t raised to lean on people like you, offering me support the way you are, even a heartbeat longer than I have to. My father would roll in his grave…”

“He’s, uh, gone then?” She nodded and the man frowned and made a gesture with his hands, pressing his palm to the skin over his heart and then fanning his fingers, stretching his arm out over the water to the side of her ship like he was sprinkling something. “Fair seas to him, then.”

“Faunus custom?”

“Funeral right, in a sense.” the man shrugged with a sheepish smile, “When you find out a friend lost a loved one, you do it. A way of fair wishing for the lost.”

“Technically, he’s just missing in action…” She murmured out of pure habit, even if she already knew better thanks to Spark. Grimacing, she sighed. It was too late to change her story now… 

That would be suspicious. 

“Military?” Again, she nodded simply and the man grimaced. “How long has he been missing?”

“For… A very, very long time.” Years piled upon years, now. So long she could barely really remember not believing he was dead and gone, if not buried outright. “His ship vanished during operations and it… Never came back.”

“Then you and I both know he’s certainly not just missing, Rion.” The man sighed, shaking his head and smiling sadly. When she didn’t say anything, only leaned back against the side of the boathouse and watched Spark pacing the ship further out, looking everything over, the Faunus sighed a second time. “Have you thought of a name?”

“A name?”

“For the ship.” Ghira explained, “She needs a proper name. One from her new captain. Doesn’t she?”

“I suppose…” She murmured, turning an eye on the meandering machine further up the ship. After a long moment she offered, quietly, “The Spirit of Fire. After the ship my father d- Went missing on.”

“As suitable a name as any, and more than most to boot.” Chieftain Belladonna smiled warmly, shaking his head and blowing out a long, deep breath. Turning, he looked out at the sea and said, “Well, I suppose I should let you get going, then, since you’re so determined to head out right away.”

“Better than waiting around for nothing.” She shrugged, more than a little happy for a change in topic. “And people out there might need our help, too. Or here in Menagerie, either way. But I can’t do anything worthwhile sitting around eating baked fish.”

“You don’t like the fish?”

“You know exactly what I meant, Belladonna.” She laughed, waving him off and pushing off the boathouse. Grinning wryly, she grunted, “Go on, then. Get out of here so we can cast off and get sailing. It’s been too long since I was moving…”

“Wandering soul?”

“You could say that, yeah.” Really, it was more of a habit than anything, built up from all her time running around space trying to make a way. If she’d found a good job on land, here, she’d have taken that too. But she had what she had, and that was that. “I have those files you gave me. I’ll see about handling a few and then make my way back around to Kuo Kuana to turn them in.”

“I’ll have Lien waiting.” He nodded, “And I’ll find someone to show you where to sell any salvage you find, too.”

“Any preferences on that front?” 

“Weapons, armor, whatever works and looks useful.” He shrugged unsurely, “If you decide to head along the Northern coast, watch out for the reefs. But you can find useful Mistrali wrecks out there to rummage through. Some old Atlas junk out there, too. It’s all water logged to the Grimm and back but we have people here that can usually get it back up and running.”

“Yeah.” It was no different to hauling in junk from old wrecks, really. Except that if she made a mistake she’d drown instead of getting spaced… Assuming Spark didn’t save her ass.

Which he probably would.

“Then best of luck, and try not to get lost without your fancy Atlas tech to lean on.” Ghira finally grunted with a little grin, waving over his shoulder as he trundled down the plank. 

In his wake, she tugged it up and turned, calling out, “Spark! Get ready, we’re casting off in five minutes!”

“Aye, Captain.” The ancient AI called back with the barest hint of amusement.

“I’ll be up on the bridge, running final checks.” She laughed, rolling her eyes, “Signal when you’re ready for cast off.”

“Aye, Captain.” The machine parroted, adding snippily, “Handling all the manual labor while you get into the air conditioned bridge.”

“Oh, bite me.”

“Aye, Captain.” Spark called as she headed for the bridge, “Installing teeth as soon as possible.”

With a roll of her eyes she slipped through the door and into the boathouse at the back of the old ship. Inside, it felt rather like an old style home, all wood panels and warm, orange lights. Storage, kitchen, latrine, bedroom, all the same wood panels and orange-ish lighting. It was cool, at least, thanks to a pair of old window conditioning units, one stuck in the bedroom whose door she left open as she passed by. The other was on the bridge on the second floor, stuck in a window by the door that blasted her with cold air as she stepped into the small, simple bridge.

It was heaven, to have the cold air and be on a bridge - sailing ship or not - both.

The bridge itself was a small, simple affair, with an old fashioned steering wheel at the fore, to let her look out the window, and a simple radar display to its right. A second screen on it monitored the weather, but only so far as telling her the speed and direction of the wind and cloud density around them. The rest she’d have to figure out on her own, one way or another. To the left of the steering system was a simple readout one, that told her the weight of the hold below. A hold over from its fishing days but something she could use now, too, to weigh how much junk they were hauling in.

“At least that part of my life hasn’t changed…” She sighed, “Even if everything else has.”

“Talking to yourself isn’t a healthy habit, Rion.”

“Talking is fine.” She countered easily, turning to pay her friend a small smile. “It’s arguing that can be a bad sign. Especially if you lose to yourself.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure you’re not far off.”

“Bite me.”

“Still installing those teeth, Captain.” She showed him her middle finger and turned back to looking over the archaic radar as he laughed, face plate shifting to a vibrant violet as she did. After a heartbeat he joined her, looking it over, “Radio based radar systems like this are basically worthless… Especially for us.”

“Yeah, well.” She shrugged, flipping the radar’s switches to test its internals, and figure out what the unlabelled things did. “Best we’ve got aside from your drones, and the best they’ve got period.”

“I know.”

“Then don’t complain.”

“I wasn’t complaining, though, Rion.” He answered snidely, smiling when she paid him a look and raised a questioning brow, “I was insulting the old tech we have installed. Not complaining about it.”

“Mhm.” She rolled her eyes and sighed, pacing over to the low counter that stretched along the back wall. The folders she’d brought along were already scattered on top of it, dropped off during Ghira’s tour, and she picked up one she recognized, “A ship went down a few weeks ago, off the North-Western coast. According to the Chieftain’s records, Mistrali rescuers got them, but Mistral doesn’t scrap like Menagerie does.”

“Likely because they don’t need to.” He nodded, busying himself working the radar system himself, testing it out and memorizing its workings the same way she had. “Menagerie isn’t a ‘proper’ Kingdom by any accounts. They lack the infrastructure and industry of the greater nations, and so, unlike them, find value in mass recycling of even basic materials like steel, iron and the like.”

“And no one is helping them.”

“No one needs to.” He answered simply, “A Menagerie desperate for supply pays more. And is less of a threat besides, which is… Probably part of the decision.”

“Typical.” Money. Even in the Covenant, resources and prestige had outweighed common sense, from what she’d heard. And the UNSC had been no different, either. With a sigh that was weary of something she couldn’t describe, and that might have just been life in general, she said, “Well, at least there’s people like us out here, filling in those gaps, then. If they’re so damn insistent on leaving them open, I mean.”

“Yeah.” Spark nodded, turning to give her another one of his silent, appraising looks.

“We should get this rig moving.” She said before he could spend too much time on her. Bobbing her head at the wheel she asked, “So, do you think you can sail this boat we’ve had dropped in our laps?”

“Easily.” He nodded, shooting her one of his more roguish grins, if a machine could ever be said to look ‘roguish’, “But isn’t that the captain’s job?”

“Usually.” She shrugged, grimacing thinly. “But odds are I will actually hit a reef in a tub like this. I can move a ship around out in the black all I want. But a boat out at sea is… Well, it’s just not the same thing.”

“No.” He agreed, stepping forward to wrap mechanical fingers around old, dark wood. Smiling wider, and glinting to a pleased green, he said, “I guess I’m the captain now, huh, Rion?”

“Sure.” She rolled her eyes, “I’ll make sure to let Ghira know when we get back. ‘Hey, yeah, Spark is actually a millennia old artificial intelligence that saw the galaxy wiped out one time. Don’t worry though, he’s tamed.’ Should go over just fine. Right?”

“Well. Not if we explain it like that, certainly.” He flashed to orange, showing his irritability before it slid back to a cooler, more comfortable blue. Just a flash of agitation, then, she told herself. Nothing to feel too bad over. Smiling, he went on, “But come on now, Rion. Don’t you have a single tactful, diplomatic bone in your tiny, brittle little body?”

“I’m not that brittle…”

“I could squish you with two fingers.”

“You could bend steel with two fingers.” She laughed, “I don’t think that counts.”

“I disagree.”

“I’m the Captain.” She argued, “So what I say goes.”

“Are you, though?” He grinned, drumming his metal fingers on the steering wheel as they eased out from the dock and into the bay. “I’m fairly certain I’m the one sailing the ship, Rion. Which would make me… What precisely?”

“Autopilot with extra steps.”

“You wound me, Rion.” He said, laying a hand on his chest over where his heart would be. Letting out a startled, faux-gasp, he added worriedly, “Rion, I can’t feel my heart beat! My, my, you did cut me deep!”

“I’ll get the welder.”

“Get anywhere near me with one of those and I will ram us into a rock.” He threatened with a grin before turning back around, “Heading, Second Officer Forge?”

“Ha. Ha.” She shook her head, opening the file and skimming until she could find the numbers he needed. “Coordinates logged in the report are… Right around 45 N, 40 W, with Kuo Kuana as the bearing point for some reason.”

“It’s so their boats can gauge more easily how far from harbor something is before reacting.” He explained calmly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “If they used global position figures then they would have to run those and then factor the distance to target from Kuo Kuana anyway. Instead, they cut the middle part and make their math one to one direct.”

“Huh.” She shrugged, looking up at the droid, “That… Actually kind of makes sense. In an old school, archaic sort of way.”

“Actually, the Forerunners did similar back when they ruled the stars.” Spark argued gently, leaning almost instinctively with the ship as he banked it to the right, and out of the harbor. “They would designate locuses of travel in radii of important structures and locations. They started at the planetary level, then system, sector and galactic quadrant. Layered on top of each other, a system or officer needed only punch in correctly designated codes to have virtually any location on their display in moments.”

“Huh.” So maybe it wasn’t quite as backwards as she’d though, even if the UNSC didn’t tend to do it, at least to her knowledge. “How long do you think it will take us to get there?”

“Depends on the currents, really.” He answered simply, raising a hand over a shoulder. With a flash of swirling reds, blues and yellows, a Watcher bloomed into crackling life and turned, meandering through the door. “We’re away enough that I can have it submerge off the decking without us being spotted.”

“Those can go under the water?”

“Of course.” He answered, returning his hands to the wheel. “Their propulsion units perform at approximately twenty nine percent less of their norm, and their munitions are useless, but they can move. And that’s all I need right now, to check the currents.”

“Can it keep pace?”

“Yes.”

“Then leave it down there.” She ordered firmly, “Have it keeping an eye out for Grimm and hazards.”

“A wise decision.” Spark nodded, reaching down and, with the same warping flash of colors, summoning a small construct that looked a lot like a small hound. The Crawler turned to eye her for a moment before bounding off the same way that the Watcher had. “That can sit on the prow and keep a lookout on the sky. If needs be, I can add a Watcher to it before I’m tapped out on what I can spawn.”

“Aside from weapons, I hope…”

“Aside from small arms.” He nodded quietly, “I estimate around an hour until we’re in sight of where the vessel went down. You should get some rest before we get there.”

“I’m not exactly tired…”

“No, but when we get there I will be doing a lot of diving with my Watchers. You will be helping me haul what we find up and cut away the rot to get at what can be used.” Her mechanical friend explained knowingly, “So, getting rest now will be for the best. We’ll probably be at this for a day or so, and the work will be rough.”

“Yeah, I know.” She’d been working space salvage for long enough to, after all, and it couldn’t be that different in principle. Finally she sighed and nodded, and then turned to leave, “I’ll be in my bunk, then, until you need me.”

“I’ll let you know when I need manual labor.” He nodded, “Or someone to wipe seagull excretions off the windows.”

“You can do that yourself, Spark.”

“Can.” he nodded, “Won’t, though. Captain’s privilege.”

“Remind me to hide your charging cable…”

“I would like to see you hide the sun, Rion.” He quipped back, turning and grinning when she only groaned, hovering just inside the door. “Get it? Because I’m solar powered? So taking away my power cable would mean-”

“I regret ever activating you.” She laughed, trotting down the hall before he could say anything.

Her bunk room was as simple as everything else, barely more than a cot tucked into one corner and a wide window overlooking it. But, as she fell into it, she could already imagine a few tweaks she could make to it to make it more homey. A desk here, a chair for it, maybe a wardrobe. And hell, a globe for the corner and a trunk to stick her valuables in for that ‘old pirate’ vibe.

But for now, it would do.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Smokey Panda :

Corsac and Fennec are always up to their shady business, lol. Also, arguably? Puhlease. Khali and Ghira just are the most wholesome Faunus parents we’ve seen as of yet, lol.

Dasgun :

^-^

Cool Dude 101011 :

Due to events in some of the latest books. I suggest looking them up, I hear they are pretty great!

KPMH 2001 :

I don’t think I do them that well, honestly. But where I’m at is just due to practice. Anyone can write, it just takes time to learn and effort to practice!

Big Boss Hayden 98 :

Currently? No. I cannae discuss how and why, though, for spoiler purposes.

Combine 117 :

Yeah, only moms of people out to save the world have to worry. *slowly turns to look at Khali*


	7. 343 Pirate-Be-Gone, Part II

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Gib

XxX----XxX----XxX

An hour to pass with nothing to actually do was a familiar, if rare, kind of hell to sit through. Unless you were up for cryo-napping your way through every time, long trips between world and job sites meant plenty of dead time to kill. Reading books, or reports, running financials, sorting through whatever junk they were hauling in- There were plenty of ways to pass her time on her old rigs, back in the black with her crew. Or, well, the rest of her crew, since Spark had been marooned right along with her.

But here, on her brand new ship out on the high seas?

She had… Less to do.

Inventory was always her first go to for times like these but, aside from a few weeks of food, a few spare outfits and her body glove, there wasn’t much she hadn’t already inventoried at least in her head. She’d need to invest in some kind of datapad, if they had them, or a set of folders and papers if not, to get a proper inventory set up. Next would normally be checking over the ship’s hull and systems, but… Well, it didn’t have any systems and she’d checked the hull while Ghira gave her the tour earlier.

She could do her normal regimen, but… 

“Too damn hot for that. Maybe Spark could teach me to sail?” She sighed, laying back on the stiff pillow of her cot, one leg resting over her knee while she thought about the idea. After a few short moments she chuckled and sighed, “Not a chance. He’d never let me live down me asking him to teach me like that.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t.”

“Son of a bitch!”

“Just a bit, but we ought not speak ill of the dead, Rion.” He said quietly, stepping into the little room and stating simply and coolly, “We’ve gotten close enough to the coordinates for my Watchers to perform long range scans of the area.”

“Already?” She blinked, sitting up on her bed, “It’s barely been twenty minutes, though.”

“The ship’s maximum speed is approximately two point seven five percent faster than I initially suspected it would be, on the calm seas we’ve been traveling.” He answered, as always, simply and calmly, like it was all so obvious. “Also, we are still twenty nine point five minutes out. That would equal approximately forty nine point three five minutes of transit, which is in the margin of error.”

“Well you’re in a mood…”

“Technically, I’m always in a mood.” He smiled, folding his hands in front of himself and cocking his head mockingly, “As are you. That’s how sapient beings function, after all, Rion.”

“And it’s a bad mood, too, apparently…” She sighed, “What did the long range scans show, then? I’m guessing something, since you came to see me. And who is steering the ship anyway?”

“No one.” He answered, “There’s nothing in front of us, and a Watcher is circling overhead, so I would know if that changed at all. Also, ‘steering’ is technically not the correct word to use here. Technically, the word is ‘piloting’.”

“Please, just tell me what your scans picked up…”

“I thought you wanted me to teach you naval knowledge.”

“Maybe later.” She sighed, knowing she’d regret that later even as she said it. The way he shifted to a more eager, warm yellow didn’t dissuade her from that fear, either. Ignoring it, she sighed, “For now, I want to focus, Spark. What did you find?”

“My Watchers’ long range systems can’t scan under the water at this distance, we need to close a bit more for that.” He preambled quickly, “But on the surface they can detect outlines at a fair enough distance using simple long range scans, using thin, imperceptible Hard-Light lances far too weak to do anything to read the dimensions of distant shapes.”

“And?”

“And there are two vessels with the same dimensions approximately four hundred yards away from where the ship went down.” He answered quietly, his metal face set in a firm, almost anxious kind of grimace, “They are fast looking craft with what appear to be sails as well as steam based engines.”

“What are they doing?” She asked, “Can you tell at this range?”

“Neither have moved at all in the last five minutes.” He answered, voice only growing more and more grave as he went on, “They’re moored, and I see no signs of equipment that could be used for salvaging or large scale trapping and fishing.”

“How big are they?”

“Each of them are half our size.” He answered, paying her a long, heavy look. “If I had to hazard a guess at who they are…”

“Pirates.” She nodded knowingly, standing and shaking her head as much at her luck as at there being pirates. “What do you think we should do, Spark?”

“Oh, am I the captain now after all?”

“No, you’re a friend who I’m asking for advice.” She said quietly, kneeling and tugging the box of her clothes out from under the cot. While she dug through it she went on, “We shouldn’t have any trouble dealing with pirates, between your drones and your… Well, you. But I don’t know if we want to get into a fight.”

“Witnesses could be… A problem.” 

“That’s, uh, not exactly what I meant.” He gave her a look, one brow raised curiously, and she just sighed. Laying the armored suit out she waved for him to turn around and, with a sigh, he did. Stripping out of her loose clothes she said, “I don’t know if we want to show our hand any more than we already have. The more we show you off, the more rumors will spread about us.”

“I imagine that won’t be something we can help.” He pointed out dryly, “The only Human on Menagerie is likely already excellent fodder for the rumor mill. And any exploits against the Grimm, and I am sure there will be at least some, will only add to that.”

“So?” She asked, slipping into the suit and letting it automatically adhere to her, hugging her every inch like a comfortable, combat ready blanket. “Do you think we should run?”

“No.” He answered, turning to her as if he knew she was decent enough and smiling warmly and, somehow, viciously at the same time, “I’m saying we should destroy these pirates, find out what they were here for, and let the people of Menagerie think what they like.”

“You’re not worried about us exposing ourselves?”

“Oh, I am.” He countered breezily, waving the concern off with a hand. “But I hate pirate scum more than I could ever bring myself to be worried about being well-known. And like I said, I doubt we can do much to prevent that outright so… We may as well get to choose how it happens, and what we’re known for. Who knows, maybe it will put anyone who might want to target us off?”

“Maybe, yeah.” It would certainly prove that Grimm or not, they were a force to fear. And not to mess with. “And you think that pirate hunting is a good place to start?”

“Oh, definitely.” He nodded, “And I have a plan, too.”

“Alright.” She sighed, turning to him and folding her arms over her chest, “Let’s hear it, then, Spark.”

XxX----XxX----XxX

“And we’ve got around a week’s worth of supplies we can sit through before needing to head up the coast for porting, Captain.” His first mate, a wiry, bookish little man he’d met in Mistral, said as he walked the deck of his ship. “We’ve more than enough ammunition for another raid, as well, and the same applies to our Dust fuel. That we actually have a surplus of, after that transport liner we knocked out a few weeks back. I don’t know where those wretched half-breeds got that much fuel worthy Dust, but it’s ours now.”

“Thanks the gods for their gifts.” He rumbled, rubbing a hand over his thick stomach and pursing his dry lips. “Continue your report, Alistair.”

“Of course, Captain White.”

‘Captain White’ sighed as he watched his men and women work and listened to the man’s daily report, virtually unchanged for the last few weeks. Around them his loyal, Human men and women worked the ship quietly. Each of them paused to pay him respectful nods which, short of a proper salute as they were, instilled just a bit of pride back into ‘Captain White’ as he made his way along the deck. They weren’t airships, to say the least of the little ships he’d been given, and they weren’t proper navy either, two decades out from modern Mistral fare for that, but…

Mistral didn’t need him on either of those right now.

He’d been told that very clearly.

“If we don’t get any quarry by near-evening, order the crew to begin preparations to head up-coast for port.” He ordered firmly, already planning to get into a barber’s to have the rough beard fighting for life in spite of his razor’s best efforts. “We’ll range further east on our next outing, maybe, or west, to intercept relief lines to Vale.”

“But those are Human, no?”

“Vale let the animals run too free and we saw what happened.” He grunted with a quick and simple shrug of his broad shoulders, “Hit the relief lines and blame the White Fang. We all know they caused the Fall of Beacon, so they’ve earned it.”

“Aye, Captain White.” Alistair nodded, “I’ll order them to- Hrk!”

Turning, Captain White watched in slow motion as the man stumbled forward, his thin back blackened and smoking. He coughed and then pawed at his chest before turning to look at his captain, one bloody hand reaching out to White as if he could help him somehow. Then, with a sigh, the second officer collapsed in a loose, limp heap.

“Attack!” He warned, ducking low and sweeping forward, under the cover of the mast and sails as an orange round screamed into the deck where he’d been. While his deck smoldered he warned, “Enemies above!”

Around him his crew scrambled for cover as professionally as they could, calling out his warning again and again as they went on the off chance someone hadn’t heard him. While White watched several of them spasmed and bucked, clawing at smoldering wounds and the stumps of limbs as they collapsed to the decking. Most made it to cover, but once they had rounds began snapping down through the poor coverage, carving through canvas sails, wooden decking, and screaming sailors as they rained down like the fiery fury of the sun itself.

From the smell of cooking meat, he almost believed that was what had happened.

The sail and rigging above him meant that firing up would be suicide but he yanked his flare gun free regardless and stood, firing it out over the water instead. It flared to life for a brief, bright moment before he saw a flurry of orange-red light lance down from on high and the fire of the light died.

Had they shot his flare…?

“Someone, get to the helm!” He screamed, “Get us moving, I don’t care where!”

The helm was open air, to give the captain a good view of the ship, and mounted to the front of his boat. Anyone that went for it was likely to be cut down as they went, or went they got them moving. But his crew, Mistrali professionals to the last man and woman, didn’t hesitate. Only a handful had the keys to unlock the steering but over a dozen stood to run, using their lives as a herd shield to protect the ones that could actually do as he’d ordered.

He watched as one by one they were cut down, the final managing to just key the engine and raise their anchor before a burst orange-red lights flashed down and into her back. Her chest and arms sagged to one side, as the boat lurched forward, while her legs slumped to another, cleanly separated from the rest.

They made it ten feet before their engine screamed and they jerked to a stop. When he turned, the engine was smoking and, as the last handful of his crew stood, he heard something slam down into the decking beside him.

“I’m very sorry.” He heard as he turned, looking up into the smiling metal face of an automaton unlike anything he’d ever seen. “But I can’t allow you to escape. You can surrender, though, if you would like. Menagerie will accept it, I’m sure.”

Before he could think, his hand yanked up his flare pistol, belting out a streaking round into the machine’s face. As he turned he dwlt a pressure on his back and grunted as he was raised into the air.

“I guess not.” The machine said, looming over him as he was hoisted high, one of the machine’s arms wrapping around his throat. “Well, that’s fine by me, I suppose. I do hate pirates.”

With a jerk down, Captain Archibald Silver, or ‘Captain White’ right now out on his mission, saw the hand sprout from his breast. Wheezing once, he fell still, just barely aware of when his body hit the decking and the machine stepped over him, almost entirely unphased by the bolts and rounds of his crew’s weapons as they tried to fend it off.

The very last thing he saw was their sister ship listed by, the ship slowly dipping to one side as its engine and sails burned and its mast groaned, falling to one side and carving through decking as it went.

XxX----XxX----XxX

“Seventy-five assorted small arms rifles and sidearms, forty nine assorted crates of trade goods and miscellaneous supplies, probably looted from Menagerie and Valean traders,” according to Spark, at least, who said he had the Kingdom sigils saved in his memory, “a few weeks of surplus food and water, and a full stock of fuel… I wish you hadn’t sunk the other ship, now.”

“Our hold is nearly full as it is.” Spark answered simply, watching his Watchers levitate the crates one by one into the stomach of the ship. “And we will only be able to haul one of them into port anyway. The other can rest in the same grave, with its loathsome crew, that they believed their targets deserved.”

“Fair.” She sighed, “Any sign of the lost ship?”

“One hundred and twenty odd feet below us, stripped of anything worth anything, and likely loaded onto the pirate vessels.” Spark answered quietly as the two Watchers went on to the next barrel, chock full of pilfered polearms, “When we get back to Menagerie with this kind of haul, we’re certain to turn heads.”

“And our wallets.” She smiled, “The fuel will be great to have around, though. Should last us weeks out here. The food, too.”

“Unless it spoils.”

“Yeah…” She nodded, leaning against the edge of the railing that enclosed the deck. Her deck. “Remind me to pick up some fishing gear.”

“Fishing gear?”

“You were a fisherman?” Spark nodded quietly, gazing at her almost pensively, and Rion smiled warmly. “Well, I figured you might like to do some fishing. Something good to pass the time and, I mean, I’m not a massive fan of fish, but food is food. And if we don’t eat them all we can always sell some for extra Lien.”

“I wouldn’t be against that…” Spark murmured, going still and quiet for a long, almost worrying while before he shrugged. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind helping out in that manner. Though I don’t think Lien will be much of a problem for some time after this kind of haul, honestly.”

“Maybe not.” She shrugged, “But it will eventually. Speaking of Lien, what do you think about that ship?”

“The little interceptor?” She nodded and, knowing where her head was, he waved her off, “We don’t have anyone that can crew it. I will do well to keep this boat moving, and need to use services in the docks for enough of it, as is. We don’t need another boat that I can’t keep just sitting around.”

“Better to sell it?”

“Repair it first.” He said quickly, “But after? Yes, definitely. It should fetch a fine price.”

“Alright.” She said, opting for another topic to pass more time while the Watchers did their nearly finished work. “Any idea what these pirates were up to?”

“I would assume piracy.”

“I meant beyond the obvious.” She rolled her eyes, “Ass.”

“I know.” Spark nodded, grinning one of his eerie metal grins before shrugging ambivalently. “I don’t know. Perhaps you should search the captain’s quarters later, and see what can be found? If there is a journal or some such you may find your answers.”

“Not a bad suggestion.”

“Of course not.” He chuckled, “It was mine, after all.”

“Ass.”

“I still think that they were merely pirates.” He pointed out, “Though it is somewhat odd that they used precisely the same model of ship. Normally, pirates just use whatever they can get their filthy little hands on.”

“That’s why I’m so suspicious.” She nodded, pushing off the railing and ordering, “Get the cargo loaded and locked away, then turn us back towards Kuo Kuana. I’ll be on the other ship, searching for information.”

“I’ll give you a lift.” Spark nodded, waving a hand and directing one of the Watchers over to her where it floated at hip level, back to her. 

“Alright…” It took a moment to find a way to do it but eventually she climbed on, resting her knees on top of the machine’s wheel-like thrusters and sitting on top of it. It was awkward, to say the least, but… “This’ll work. Send me over, Spark.”

“Have fun.” He smiled, waving his hand and calling out as she lifted off into the air, “And don’t slip on the blood or anything! I don’t feel like dealing with you and a concussion.”

“I’d flip you off if I wasn’t hanging on!” She spat back as she was flown over the open ocean to the other, more damaged boat. Once it had dropped her off the Watcher turned to return, buzzing away quietly, and she sighed, “Now to get to work.”

She’d just have to ignore the blood, smoke and bodies somehow.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Spark is a monster in a fight.

An advisory, there will be fights that he struggles in, and other risks besides. A bunch of not-pirates with old weapons only good in numbers and relatively low-tier Grimm, though, aren’t going to pose that threat.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Dasgun :

^-^

Big Boss Hayden :

That was just a joke, friendo.

Combine 117 :

Rion do be right, though.

KPMH2001 :

Yeah, I wanted to make that a good scene. Real talk, a lot of the chapter was building to that.

Smokey Panda :

Glad to hear it!


	8. Pirate-Be-Gone, Part III

XxX----XxX----XxX

Official Supporters: 

Fanatical Fucking Reader, ScrubLord Yoda

Compulsive Reader, The Impossible Muffin

Adeptus, Private Wilger

Commissioner, Gib, Espa Cole

Settled Reader, Xager the Chaos King

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM me for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : https://discord.gg/2UZncAm

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I have a kofi account now, too, under this name for those interested.

Beta(s) : 

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Requested by:

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While Spark worked on moving over and cataloguing their haul, Rion set to work checking the ship over. It was an interesting design, the small-ish ship fitted with a small engine and a large mast system to propel it along at best possible speed. The fore of the pirate ship was reinforced, too, when she leaned over the railing to look. A heavy armor plate had been fitted to it, presumably for ramming and protection both.

“It’s an interceptor.” She mumbled as she turned to look at the open-air wheel, fitted to the front of the ship presumably to let the one steering see their path more easily. “A risky spot to be, but if you’re more concerned about speed… I guess it would work pretty well.”

And had, too, considering the haul they’d gotten from the ships.

The prow was narrow, and low resting into the water a lot like her own ship’s hull was. The back was larger and wider, though, and raised about a third of the way up the mast in the ship’s center. The front was too risky for the captain to stay in, whether or not the captain actually steered the ship personally. Tradition back in the day said that they would, at least some of the time. But modernity had meant that captains did less piloting, leaving that to crew around them, or more commanding from the bridge.

“This isn’t the UNSC, or Earth.” She murmured as she headed towards the rear of the ship, stepping around the carnage left behind by Spark’s attack. Ignoring the burning wood, and meat, she sighed, “No reason to think that the naval traditions here are one to one. And plenty to say they aren’t.”

The back of the ship had several doors split across three levels, but she ignored the bottom two oto climb the outside stairs. The top level was the smallest, with a narrow but finely made walkway in front of a set of wide doors that ran to a pair of staircases that led up to a fortified, once upon a time gun-topped, roof. 

Set up in the back, and with a nice view that was good for tactics and the view itself, it was where she’d pick to stay on this ship, at least…

The door was locked but the top halves were windows, which her Forerunner body-glove enveloped elbow smashed through breezily. Inside was a wide room split down the middle, a kingly bedroom to one side and a chaotic, messy office suite of sorts to the other. She made a note to come back and loot for furniture later, the bookshelf alone stocked with enough books and binders to keep her busy for a while.

The latter, though, she got to digging through right away.

XxX----XxX----XxX

“Rion.” Spark nodded as the Watcher dropped her back off on the deck before zipping back to its work. The machine paid a nod to the little book in her hands and then he asked, quietly, “Your search went well, I take it?”

“Depends on how you define ‘went well’, Spark.” She sighed, hopping up onto the ship railing and leaning against a raised wind-breaker at the front of the ship. Flipping open the little journal to a page she’d saved she started to read, “It’s been three weeks now, and all we’ve found have been trading ships up and down around Menagerie. No Fang activity. I sent word through the regular channels out of Royale, but the only word to come back has been to ‘keep to the plan’. Why? These are civilians. Sinking them doesn’t do anything to curtail the Fang… But as command says, I do, as ever.”

“Pirates don’t tend to report to ‘Command’.” Spark noted needlessly, turning a look on her, “Usually their idea of ‘command’ begins and ends right around whoever is captain at the time. Until they get shot, or stabbed, in the back, at least. Then it just shifts around.”

“My sentiments exactly.” She sighed, “And the journal is full of entries like that, too. I don’t know where Royale is, but I get the feeling it isn’t Command, either.”

“Why is that?”

“He never refers to them as the same thing.” She answered simply, shrugging and closing the little black book. “I read a handful of the entries, and he talks about both often enough. But never does he call them the same. In fact, how he words things implies that he goes to Royale to report to Command.”

“Then I’d guess they are privateers.” Spark offered quietly, “Probably normal pirates hired out to work against Menagerie. Or even normal navy.”

“Drop the uniforms and no one would be any the wiser.” She sighed, chewing a lip anxiously and shaking her head. “What the hell are we getting involved in, here, Spark? Some kind of proxy war, feels like.”

“It does at that.” He sighed, adding when she turned a look on him, brow raised, “What do you want to do about it, though? We could just dump the book, hock the goods we’ve found, and pretend not to know about any of it.”

“We could…” And the temptation was there, too, and pretty strong. This wasn’t their fight in any respect, and they had better things to focus on, between trying to get home and figure out what happened. But… “The Belladonnas did right by us, went out of their way to help total strangers. We can’t just toss this out after that.”

“So… Back to port, then?”

“Back to port.” She sighed, turning a look the way they’d come and grimacing at distant, dark clouds that rumbled threateningly. “Don’t reckon that will just blow away, do you?”

“No.” Spark answered, “But we’ll be fine, I’m sure. It’ll just slow us down a bit, going against the wind and currents. No worries, though, and hey. We have stuff to sell when we get there, too.”

“Yeah.” She grinned, “At least there’s that to look forward to.”

The storm turned out to be a true tempest, with winds that howled and waves that buffeted them as they tried to push through it. They stuck to the shallows, and their hold was full to bursting, so the waves couldn’t get large enough to overturn their ship. But Spark was forced to send his Watchers to the other ship, first to store the bodies below-decks where they’d be kept safer, and then to steer the other ship so that it wouldn’t drift into the shoreline, or out into the stronger waves of the sea.

How he was able to steer two separate, very different ships, she didn’t know, beyond the usual AI based nonsense.

Even with his pre-existing skills on the open sea, it still took days to fight against the storm’s wind and waves. And she still had nothing to do, besides sit in her bunk, head between her knees while she tried to stave off the sea-sickness the storm was kicking up. Spark had warned her before they set off into the storm that space travel and cryo-sleep were two very different things to a stormy sea, and she’d laughed it off.

Now, she really understood the differences… A ship’s groans and moans as space pressured it and the internal systems worked were regulated, normal. You could predict them, after a while, and that made it easier to deal with them. Even ones that made space travel hard, like how air-cons tended to whine and wheeze on older civilian ships. Or how armor plating, replaced and resoldered so often back during the war that even the UNSC didn’t really know what was what, would moan and groan occasionally.

The waves were wild, though, and doing wild things to her insides…

“How are we feeling?” She heard, looking up to see Spark standing in the door, a Watcher hovering at his waist with a little pot and cup she didn’t recognize resting on its head.

“Like I look, I imagine.”

“So like shit?”

“Kiss my ass, Tin Man.” She grunted back, wrapping her arms tighter around her legs and tugging them into her chest as the ship rocked again. And took her stomach with it, bile rising against her steadily weakening iron defense. Forcing it down she asked, quietly, “What’s that? I don’t recognize the pot…”

“Lemon and ginger tea, from our… Recent ventures.” He answered with a wry chuckle and a glint of amused green and vicious red, the Watcher bobbing forward quickly, hardlight systems holding the pot and cup both steady. She took the cup, after a moment, and the Watcher poured it for her while Spark explained, “It’s an old remedy. Hot tea, ginger to fortify, and lemon to steady the stomach. It helps new sailors get their sea legs.”

“Yeah?”

“It helped me.” He answered with a small shrug, “On my first voyage, I was a mess. Hacking up my stomach, unable to eat- And it wasn’t even a storm.”

“Really?”

“Oh very much so, yes.” He nodded, pantomiming taking a drink from an invisible cup, piny raised jokingly, to cue her to do the same. Grimacing, she did, biting back a groan at the bitter lemon taste it left. Chuckling, he said, “I reacted that way to that, too. The taste… Takes a while to adjust to. But once you have, you’ll feel better.”

“Like coffee after cryo?”

“Kind of, I suppose.”

“That’s a placebo, though, Spark.” She smirked, watching him stiffen at being caught out. Put on or a genuine reaction, she wasn’t sure, but she took another sip and explained. “Caffeine wakes you up, which is helpful. But it’s mostly just the warm drink that helps you get up and out of the ‘Bay.”

“Yes, well… Then I suppose this isn’t like that.” She snorted, amused, and he sighed, face plates contorting in an unamused grimace. “I mean it, Rion. The ginger and lemon blend is actually medicinal, not placebic. And for the record, I pilfered it from the captain’s cabin. It was stored beside arthritis medication and eye drops.”

“So?”

“So clearly it was medicinal!” He guffawed, turning slightly as the Watcher deposited the pot on the floor at the foot of her bed and zipped out of the room. Seeing her smirk, he sighed, “You’re messing with me… Because of course you are. The one time I try and be nice-”

“Relax, Spark.” She smiled, taking another sup from the cup and chuckling. “I’m just teasing you. And I appreciate you helping me out, too.”

“Yes, well…” He tinted a cold blue and shrugged, turning to leave, “We’ll be at port come the morning. I don’t look forward to giving the Chieftain the news, but…”

“I’ve been thinking about that ever since I found the journal.” She sighed, taking another fortifying sip and turning, tugging the little book out from under her pillow. Frowning and turning it in her hand she said, “You were right that we could just… Dump it. Avoid everything we’re about to just walk into.”

“Sail, technically.”

“Spark…”

“But I take your point.” He sighed, shaking his head and turning back to her, “I agree with you, though. They’ve done too good by us not to offer them this. Not to help them. We have to pay it back.”

“Will this help them, though?” She asked, “Or just put them in danger?”

“We can’t know the future.” Spark counselled her gently, clasping his hands behind his waist and, for once, looking the years he’d lived as opposed to just bragging about them. “What if by not telling them they were to end up in even worse danger, in the end? What if, say, it causes a civil schism in Kuo Kuana that ends with the manor torched?”

“That wouldn’t be our fault, though.” She argued, “We can’t know what not saying anything will really mean. But if this happened to the UEG’s traders, the UNSC would be rolling up the production lines to respond.”

“Kuo Kuana isn’t the UNSC.” The ancient Human answered coolly, “We can’t know what will happen one way or another. But the Chieftain deserves to know what is happening. It's his duty to protect his people. And he needs all the information to make an informed decision.”

“I know, I just…” She sighed and leaned back, pressing her back against the wood of her room. “I don’t want to end up involved in another war. You know?”

“But I also want to do the right thing.” She said, “By the Belladonnas and just, you know, in general.”

“I know you do, and so do I.” Spark murmured with a deep set frown, accented by his colors shifting through a hue of shades before settling on a dull purple. “And I’m not interested in getting involved in something like that, either. But we can decide how to handle that if, not when, a war is declared. For now, we just need to focus on getting by. And part of that is not sinking.”

“Yeah.” She smiled, “Try not to do that, alright?”

“I will. And do try to rest up, Rion.” He nodded, turning and slipping around the corner without another word.

Taking another sip of her tea, she sighed and stared up at the ceiling. What was the right decision, here? Telling them about the privateering that was going on seemed the obvious, easy answer. But keeping it to herself did, too. Whenever governments used privateers instead of opting for actual war that generally meant that they couldn’t wage a proper war, and had to rely on them.

But being called out could force them to…

And that would be on her head.

“But if it’s left alone, more people will die anyway…” She sighed, “And they’ll be civilians, too. Just sailors, trying to get by. Just like...”

Like them.

“Damn it.” She growled, downing a long drink of her tea and reaching for the pot to refill it. “Why can’t I just have a nice, easy life?”

As usual, none of the walls answered her, and she was left to drink her lemon and ginger tea in silence. Which left her all alone with her thoughts, and the decision she had to make. Which was normal enough, she supposed… And was just fine by her, really.

Because she had an idea about how to solve the pirate problem.

By the time they reached Kuo Kuana, her decision - and plan - had been made, almost in line with the storm dying off to let bright sunshine once again bake her alive. As they sailed into port, their pilfered products in tow, she took a deep breath to steady herself. Once they’d docked a guard arrived, staring at the towed boat and opening her mouth to ask about it. Before she could, though, Rion pressed the little journal into her hand and cut her off.

“We need to speak to Chieftain Belladonna.” She said simply, “Tell him it’s urgent.”

“Why?”

“If he reads that he’ll know, but if you want the headline…” The guard nodded and Rion sighed, but put on a strong voice. The kind she used to issue commands and edicts. One filled with confidence and a demand for obedience, and that she knew would do well for the guard. “You don’t have a pirate problem. You have a privateer problem. And I have some ideas on who is sending their men out to raid your lanes.”

“P-Privateers-” The guardswoman blinked, “You know who it is?”

“I do.” She nodded gravely, “The journal has the evidence the Chieftain will need to prove that Mistral is sending her men and women out to raid Kuo Kuana’s trade lanes. And we brought back one of their ships, too. A Mistrali corvette.”

The woman eyed the ship and then the journal, then frowned and nodded. Turning, she jogged off, past the gate the private docks used and out, into the city.

“You’re sure about this, then?” Spark asked quietly, stood behind her at the base of the gangplank, once more playing the servile role he’d fallen into. “You know what all of this might mean…”

“I do.” She nodded, stomach turning somersaults for entirely different reasons, now. “And whatever comes, I’m going to stand by the people that helped me. By Kuo Kuana, and the Faunus that live here.”

“Then I will too, I guess.” He sighed, “Not like I have anything better to do.”

“I appreciate it.” She smiled up at him, “Your big guns will be useful.”

“Yes, well, that and I’m the only one who can steer the ship.”

“Yep.” She nodded, “Autopilot with extra steps.”

He only sighed sufferingly, which made him all the more of a drama queen for the fact he didn’t have lungs to do it with. Which meant the sound was entirely made up.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Dasgun :

^-^

Kpmh2001 :

Yeah, I’ve noticed it a couple times too, and trying to find a way to lean into it.

Combine117 :

Naaah, Corsac and Fennec only make the BEST decisions.

The Baz :

...I hate you, now, I’M DOING IT TOO!

Korbussite :

Oh yeah. For those properly prepared, the Forerunner machines he’s using can be dealt with. But some random not-pirate caught unawares? Nah, not a chance in hell.


	9. Pirate-Be-Gone, Part IV

XxX----XxX----XxX

Official Supporters: 

Fanatical Fucking Reader, ScrubLord Yoda

Compulsive Reader, The Impossible Muffin

Adeptus, Private Wilger

Commissioner, Gib, Espa Cole

Settled Reader, Xager the Chaos King

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM me for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : https://discord.gg/2UZncAm

Second link here, remove ( and ) and it SHOULD work : D(i)scord(.)gg(slash)kfhkfUb

I have a kofi account now, too, under this name for those interested.

Beta(s) : 

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Requested by:

Gib

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“This is impossible… Impossible!” Ghira Belladonna growled, understandably distraught as he paced behind the same desk he’d paid her at days and days previous. Working his fingers through his beard as he paced, he paid her a look and explained, “Relations between Mistral and Kuo Kuana have been improving for years, now. Why would they sabotage us?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, sitting in a comfortable chair with Spark silent and behind her. “Why would they?”

“I don’t know why-”

“I’m not asking what you know, respectfully, Chieftain. I’m asking for you to think about it.” She cut him off quietly, drawing furrowed brows from the great Faunus until she explained. “You’re only thinking about why they wouldn’t do this, but it seems like they have, so think of why they would.”

“Why they would…” Ghira blinked, eyes flicking back and forth as he turned to stare at the wall and then, after a heartbeat, he sighed. Dragging his chair out and falling into it the man sighed, “It could be due to Mistralian Faunus organizations with my backing pushing for work and civil protections. They’ve been gaining support, lately, and a lot of that is Khali’s… I won’t say fault, but I’m sure you get the point.”

“I do, yeah.” Mostly, at least. It was still insane to think that Mistral just let businesses bar people for their race, like some state in southern America centuries back. It just seemed so… Asinine, and suicidal, given the nature of the Grimm. But such was human nature, to hate and hurt, she supposed. “How likely do you find it that they could manage something like this?”

“Evidently, given what you found, very.” He sighed when she gave him a look, though, and explained more earnestly, “If the more conservative elements found a financial backer, or… Or someone with influence over them, then yes. But I still can’t understand why they would resort to interventionalism by way of privateering as opposed to simply pushing for electoral victories.”

“Maybe that wasn’t working?”

“The most recent election was a conservative win by a landslide!” He guffawed, grumbling under his breath, “If the Faunus had been able to vote then maybe… But I won’t get into that. Point is, they hold enough power that anything past surface level pandering changes doesn’t get through. So, why bother?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, “Who would have the kind of money to front this?”

“Outside the Council itself?” Ghira asked, leaning back and drumming his fingers on the top of his desk gently, his claws clicking loudly in the mostly quiet office. With his other hand he leafed through the journal, skimming pages he’d already read as he thought and talked. “Jacques Schnee would be able to front it, but the SDC’s shipments have been sinking too, according to the journal. He wouldn’t do anything that cut into his sacred profit margins.”

“Probably not, no.” He looked and sounded like twenty-first century high class CEOs, with dollar signs for eyes and a cash register changing for his heartbeat. Not the type to very literally sink his money for no apparent gain. “And Kuo Kuana isn’t exactly muscling into the Dust business.”

“No.” Ghira rumbled, “They aren’t.”

“Then who else…?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged unsurely, “We need to wait for my wife. She’s much better at foreign affairs like these- Ah, and here she is.”

Less then a moment later Rion heard the door open and turned, watching Khali shuffle in and slam it behind her. The woman was tired, toting a box full of files, and had a glare that could rival the storm they’d had to sail through. But when she met Rion’s eyes she still smiled as kindly as she could manage, sauntering across the room with a polite nod and setting the box down on the desk. 

“These,” she explained, walking around and grabbing a spare chair tucked into a corner to drag to the desk and sit down, “is a record of every ship reported lost in the last six months by name, date and type.”

“And?” Rion asked, “Anything interesting?”

“Next to none of them were Mistralian, and most weren’t Atlesian either.” She explained with a tired sigh, “Most were sunk along Anima’s southern coasts, inside well-known shipping lanes. Luxury goods, weapons, Dust, raw goods- The target doesn’t seem to have mattered, really, beyond nationality.”

“What about race?” Rion asked, “Are most of them Faunus crewed? Or maybe even just owned?” 

“It didn’t seem to matter, either. Ships out of Menagerie obviously had more Faunus, as a matter of course. But other ships didn’t show the same kind of trend, so…” Khali shrugged, “I don’t think Mistral’s council, or conservatives, would sanction so many Human casualties. Especially given the bad impact it would be having on Mistral, too, since shipping coming in was being hampered with everything else.”

“So it’s probably not any of those… Or at least, our guessing won’t figure out which.” Rion sighed, leaning back and paying the silent machine beside her a look. Almost imperceptibly, Spark nodded, and she grimaced knowingly. But, she knew what she needed to do now. Even if she didn’t really like it. “So, that just means we… Have to fight it off, right?”

“Fight?” Khali blinked, “Rion we can’t… We can’t fight.”

“Why not?” Rion shrugged, leaning forward to rest her forearms on her knees and looking between the two of them. “I know you two… Stepped down, when the White Fang started turning violent, but you aren’t actually pacifists are you?”

“No! Sea and Tides, no.” Ghira laughed brightly, shaking his head and taking a long, deep breath, “She means we literally can’t. Menagerie’s fighters are too tied up defending us from Grimm and regular bandits, or serving policing roles in the city, to man ships to fight back.”

“We just don’t have the people.” Khali added with a small nod, “We don’t have the weapons, either. Rifles and simpler hand-weapons, like swords and the like, are one thing. Even heavy machine guns, as few of those as we have. But we’d need cannons to fight pirates. Cannons and the men and women needed to field them.”

“Damn.” She was half-tempted to suggest a civilian draft, like the UNSC had used a handful of times, but she doubted that either of them would tolerate that. “Then… I don’t know what the hell to do.”

“I do.” Ghira sighed, turning to his wife with a frown so deep she thought his face might get stuck that way. “You’re not going to like it…”

“Like what?” Khali blinked and then flinched back like the man had struck her, shaking her head almost violently. “Ghira, no! We cannot invite them here after the Fall of Beacon! You know how that will look on the international stage!”

“She’s said at every turn that she had nothing to do with that.” Ghria’s words rumbled around the room irritably, like he was already resigned to an age-old argument. And one that neither side seemed willing to budge on. “She has most of our fighters.”

“Yes, she does.” Khali nodded, voice hot, “And now they’re all wanted terrorists in every Kingdom.” 

“I’m not denying that, dear. I’m not. They all left to join her. And they stayed after… After everything changed into what it is now.” He said, eyes pinching shut against a wave of pain that she only half-understood. Once upon a time, the two of them, along with the current leadership, had founded the White Fang. “But if she’s willing to help us here and now, it could save hundreds of lives.”

“And it will just cost everything we’ve built.”

“With respect, Ma’am.” Rion cut in, smiling sadly and resignedly for the woman’s sake. “It seems like the other Kingdoms are already working on doing that, Khali. Or… Someone out there is, at least. And without Sienna Khan’s help, I don’t have any other ideas for how to fight back.”

“But…” Khali sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “You’re right. I hate asking her for help, after the knife she stuck in our backs, but… She has the numbers. And the weapons.”

“Right…” Ghira rose and sighed, smiling for Rion’s benefit, now, “Rion, do you mind giving us the room? My wife and I have plans to make. Without the CCT up and running, and a way to get access to her secure line, we’ll need some other way of calling Sienna.”

“And besides,” Khali sighed, “I’m sure you’re tired, after the fight you had. And then the storm.”

“Right.” She didn’t really mind either way, now the storm was gone, and the fight hadn’t been much of anything for her… But she knew that they were just posing the barely subtle ‘go away now’ as politely as they could. Standing, she paid them each nods and said, “Good evening, then. If you need me…”

“We know where to find you.” Ghira nodded, waving a hand towards the door, “Enjoy your evening, Rion.”

Nodding, she murmured the same to them and turned to leave, Guilty Spark lumbering along silently behind her. As the door closed, and she turned to leave, she didn’t hear his metal feet on the wood and stopped. When she turned to ask why, his hand rose ever so slightly, curled into a tight fist with a single finger pointed towards the ground in an old, Forerunner signal. She didn’t know them all, in spite of him trying to teach her when they had time and thought about it, but this one she knew. 

‘Hold, one watcher detected.’

She felt her shoulders stiffen, for a moment, and fought the urge to turn and look with him. But instead she waited a long moment and then thumped the machine’s shoulder, forcing a smile, “Come on, you bucket of bolts. Don’t let your AI bug out, now. We have to go.”

“Understood, Rion.” Spark nodded, playing the part and turning to follow her towards their room. Once they were safely away, and he presumably didn’t detect anyone close enough to hear, he explained, “There was a serving girl at the end of the hall. She’d changed her skin tone to mask into the wall and darkness, and was watching us.”

“Well that’s…” She frowned, searching for words until she finally settled on, “Not great. Keep your sensors searching while we’re here, Spark. I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Oh, now you have a bad feeling?” Spark mused teasingly, Rion already rolling her eyes as he went on, “Not when you discovered the apparently international conspiracy to undermine a sovereign nation? Or when you found out about the endless, mindless monsters that want to eat you?”

“You have an off switch.” She growled, “I will find it.”

“Actually, I don’t.”

“I’ll install one, then.” She threatened, pointing a finger at him, “Don’t challenge me. I’ve been cutting and slicing machinery up since I was half my height.”

“I’d like to see you manage it.” She gave him a look, both brows raised in a clear challenge, and the machine chuckled. Hands up in faux surrender he laughed, “Alright, alright, I’ll behave.”

“Yeah, but for how long?”

“Oh, a couple minutes, at least.” Spark grinned, “Until I get bored again, at least.”

Rion only sighed, rolling her eyes and genuinely looking forward to a bed that didn’t have waves bouncing her about. Still, in the back of her mind, she was on her toes. Who’d been watching them? Why? Were they involved in the privateering, somehow? There were so many questions running through her head… And none had any answers she could think of that were likely to be very good for her.

Still, she couldn’t do much about it for now but wait and hope the Belladonnas came up with a good plan of action.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Ilia couldn’t clock out for the day fast enough after what she’d heard through the vents at the Manor. Shuffling out and along the path, she did as she always did, vanishing down a side alley and then scaling up to use the roofs to get across Kuo Kuana more quickly and without anyone below seeing her head from the Manor to the White Fang’s headquarters. At first, she’d taken these paths slowly, checking each alley and street before she leapt over them.

But she’d learned pretty quickly that none of these idiots looked up.

“What’s the pass-”

“It’s me, Barry, let me in.” She growled, standing in front of the currently locked up White Fang headquarters. 

“O-Oh, Miss Ilia, it’s you.” The barrel of a bear Faunus murmured, pulling open the door to let her slip through and closing it behind her. Before she could ask, he pointed up and said, “In their office, as usual.”

Ever since the report about the privateers had been put out, and shipping slowed, the two brothers had ordered it locked up ‘for security’. It made sense to let everyone know about the problem, and she understood why everyone that could afford to had stopped going out to fish or trade. It would cause problems eventually, especially for the Chieftain himself, but this was the safest course of action for everyone, including the White Fang. 

At least, until they had a better one.

But she hated that it had put a stop to most of the White Fang’s more obvious, helpful work around the continent’s coasts. Every now and again a handful of their heavier ships, frigates rather than converted fishing trawlers and the like, would head out on a job. But normally, those five ships would be doing five jobs…

“Focus, Ilia.” She murmured as she walked quickly through the halls of the base, “It’s time to do your job, not someone else’s.”

Aside from Barry, no one else bothered her as she passed through the mostly quiet White Fang base. A lot of that was because many White Fang had dropped their masks to help around the city, or be with their families. Those that could, who didn’t have Faunus features too rare and noticeable or scars that were too obvious to miss, would often drop the mask to go enjoy civilian life.

The rest of the reason everyone left her alone was just because they were afraid of the Albain brothers, who’d made it clear she was in their circle.

“Ah, Sister.” Fennec answered, stepping aside and waving for her to enter with a warm smile. “It’s good to see you well.”

“And here to make a report.” Corsac grunted, watching their fire burn pensively. He paid her a glance and added, forebodingly, “At least, presumably so, or else you wouldn’t have risked ruining your cover by coming here.”

“I-I do.” She rushed to assure him, sitting in the folding chair that Fennec had brought in for her a while back. Hands resting on her knees, she explained, “Chieftain Belladonna is going to try and reach the High Leader for help.”

“Help?” Corsac growled, shaking his head and flicking a look to his smaller brother before turning back to the fire. “After he forced her to leave and set her base on Anima I find it funny that he’d dare ask her for help.”

“Things change, Brother.” Fennec countered, “And bring with them opportunities. We should reach out to our own allies on Anima, and see to… Expediting this.”

“Why?” Corsac asked, “That will just get in the way of-”

“Of nothing.” Fennec cut the man off, steepling his fingers and tapping the tips of them against his chin contemplatively. Smiling, he murmured, seemingly as much to himself as to either of them, “We already planned to… Well, this just makes one stona able to strike two birds, so I doubt it’s too grave a change.”

“That could be biting off more than we can chew…”

“True.” The smaller brother nodded, “Perhaps we should… Call for reinforcements, then. Very specific reinforcements.”

“Hm…” Corsac turned to her and grunted, quietly, “Leave us, Sister. We have an important call to make.”

Nodding, she stood and left, headed for the barracks to finally rest her aching feet. If that asshole in cubicle three over-filled his trash can again and left trash everywhere, she’d kill him...

XxX----XxX----XxX

“Council Ethan Coppercap is well known for his love of the navy and his hate of the Faunus, and by extension Menagerie.” Spark said quietly, standing next to the door while she relaxed in her bed. Straightening, he turned to regard the hall through her door for a long, quiet moment before turning back to her. “He has sat on the Council for fourteen years, and wins every election unopposed.”

“Does he have the Lien to do this?” Rion asked, sprawled out on her bed and staring up at the ceiling. They’d been at this since they got to the room, more or less, and as important as it was, she was pretty sure they wouldn’t get anywhere with it.

Which made it a lot more than a little frustrating.

“No.” Spark answered quickly, “He owns his own ship, and a pair of interceptors to protect it when he uses it. But he doesn’t seem to have the wealth needed. And he’s a nationalist besides. He wouldn’t harm Mistralian exporting businesses the way that these privateers have done.”

“Put a pin in him, then.” She sighed, “I doubt it’s him, but… Next.”

“There is no one else, Rion.” Spark answered quietly, resignedly, sighing when she sat up a bit to pay him a look. “Only Headmaster Leonardo Lionheart, of Haven Academy, could manage to front something like this. Admittedly, using Academy funding, but it’s all fairly irrelevant.”

“Why?” She blinked, remembering something before Spark could answer. “Oh, right, he’s a Faunus, right?”

“He is.” Spark nodded, “Ten Lien if you can guess what kind.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She rolled her eyes, smiling thinly, “Maybe a turtle?”

“Oh, rion.” Spark sighed, shaking his head and palming his face. “Truly, I wonder how often I can overestimate your intellect.”

“I was being sarcastic…”

“Truly, my disappointment is eternal. Every time I place my faith, she fails it… A never ending tragedy.” He sighed, ignoring her and looking to the sky, hand curling into a fist dramatically. “But I will always place faith in my pet Human!”

“Hey!” She blinked, sitting up and hurling a pillow at him. He caught it deftly with his free hand but kept his pose, pitching the pillow back to the food of her bed deftly. Even so, she pressed, “I’m not a pet, Spark. Yours or anyone else’s.”

“Yes, yes, you’re a strong, independent meat bag. Just let me have my fun, Rion.” He sighed, waving her off and turning to leaf through folders that had been left on her desk. Finally he said, “You should get some sleep, Rion. Without more information, we’re stuck on who is to blame for all of this.”

“Yeah.” She’d kind of come to that conclusion earlier, after the meeting with the Chieftain, but Spark had wanted to run through it. And she hadn’t had any reason not to humor him, so… “As long as you’re alright, now.”

“I’m anxious.” He said quietly, turning his head to pay her a small, comforting smile. “To get back out on the ocean, and to resolve this both. To be sailing again after so long has my heart aching for it. And to be blocked by something as underhanded and seemingly pointless as this? That’s only aggravating me further.”

“We’ll get it dealt with.” She promised him, “One way or another.”

“Yeah. Even if I have to deal with it personally, it will.” There was an odd edge to his voice as he said that. Something low and angry, that she couldn’t quite place. But it vanished in a smile a moment later and he waved her off, “Now, get some sleep, Rion. You’re going to need it tomorrow, I’m sure.”

“Alright…” She was worried about him now, more than she’d been before, but he was right that she needed her rest. So, with a sigh, she laid back and forced her eyes to close.

XxX----XxX----XxX

KPMH2001 :

Yeah, that’s part of why I’m working with it. Privateering, and how one goes about dealing with it, isn’t often covered in media. Which is probably because it’s difficult to cover without aggravating people, either by drawing on IRL inspirations that will irk some or by showing aspects that people dislike.

Hopefully, it goes well!

The Baz :

We all suffer together, now.

Two characters and one voice.

The Data Plague consumes all.

Combine 117 :

ONLY the BEST.


	10. Pirate-Be-Gone, Part V

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Official Supporters: 

Fanatical Fucking Reader, ScrubLord Yoda

Compulsive Reader, The Impossible Muffin

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On Khali's recommendation, she’d gone down to the docks to look for a Trading House to sell the ‘salvaged’ warship to. Rifles, ammo, even scrap materials and the like were easy to sell to smaller traders and craftsmen, or even to Ghira’s guardsmen directly. But full on ships were much more expensive, and harder to keep, so fewer people could afford to - or wanted to - buy one. Especially for a Mistralian warship covered in bullet holes and only recently cleared of its former crew’s bodies.

So, her options were a bit more limited than she’d have liked.

The Trading Houses themselves were... Kind of like guildhouses, in a lot of ways. Office complexes fronted them, thronged by clerks and sales-people that ran the day to day and made the money the House needed. In the back they were warehouses and, further out, over the water, sheltered dockhouses where their trading ships were stocked with cargo to send out, or maintained if they needed it. There wasn’t much of that going on right now, of course, but the Trading Houses had savings for whenever that happened.

Of course that made selling even harder for her...

“That’s the best you can offer?” She laughed, shaking her head and turning to gesture at the Mistralian ship with a hand, “That’s a near-mint, military grade interceptor! And its model is only a few years out, too!”

“Yeah, maybe, but that don’t help it none.” The scale-covered old man grumbled, toying with his wide-brimmed hat while he looked out on the public dock, where ships up for trade were docked to be looked at and walked over. “Military it might be, aye, and I ain’t arguin’ that. Seen enough of ‘em to tell jus’ lookin '. But there ain’t much market ‘round here in Kuo for military ships.”

“Not yet there isn’t.” She wanted to say, biting her tongue and sighing agitatedly before she could. 

But Ghira had made it very clear that while they were in talks with Sienna, they didn’t want anyone knowing about the problem or them contacting the White Fang. Why they decided on that was fairly obvious, given everything to do with the furry bastards trying to eat everyone.

“Look, I’m just going to need more than fifteen hundred Lien for it, alright?” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose against the building headache. “Can you at least go for seventeen and a half?”

“Nope.” The man grunted shortly, eyeing the boat boredly as he spoke, “Best I can do is sixteen. And that’s me bein’ nicer ‘n I oughta, too.”

“Fine.” She gave up, waving for the man to get it over with. “Sixteen hundred Lien for the boat. But I’m not fixing any of the damage from taking it.”

“Didn’t expect ya too.” The man grunted, turning and heading back into the warehouse. “Wait here, I’ll get ya some paperwork and your Lien.”

“Yep.” She sighed, leaning back against the railing that ran between the two neighboring trading houses at the water’s edge.

The old Faunus came back a few minutes later, a small leather pouch of little, plastic cards in one hand and a clipboard of paperwork in the other. She took both without much more than a hum of thanks and leaned against the railing again, filling out the paperwork that transferred the old interceptor over to the Trading House so they could sell it. And probably for more than twice what she’d sold it to them for.

Assuming they didn’t just fix it up and use it themselves, of course. Which would completely negate the whole ‘I can’t sell it for that much’ argument. But then, being honest wasn’t very profitable. Yay, capitalism…

“Captain Forge.” Spark greeted cheerily, if stiffly, as she walked back up the road towards the Belladonna’s private docks and the Spirit of Fire where he had been told to meet her. As they walked, he rattled off boredly, “I sold the weaponry to the local guard, as you ordered. They couldn’t pay much, but I managed one thousand two hundred for the lot. The surplus supplies we couldn’t use also went well. Oddly, for more than the weapons did.”

“How much?” She asked with a quiet little sigh and a frown. 

“One thousand five hundred, Captain.” He answered smoothly, mechanically. She hated it as much as she knew he did, but he was still playing the part of the simple automaton, doing its work for her. “This totals approximately-

“Four thousand three hundred, yeah. I can do math too.” Rion cut him off irritably, running her fingers through her hair and growling, “I can’t believe you sold the damn food for more than they were willing to even talk about selling a whole damn ship for.”

“Oh?” Spark murmured, “And how much was that?”

“...sixteen hundred.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Sixteen hundred!” She snapped, shaking her head and murmuring an apology when her synthetic companion flashed a surprised red and raised his mechanical eyebrows at her. “Sorry, I just… Thought that full ship would go for more.”

“This is a state at peace.” Spark offered simply as they walked, the Faunus still ignoring them outright for the most part. Or, well, at least those that didn’t turn glares on them. “Also, well, I did quite a lot of damage to the ship, when I took it. The mast will very likely want to be replaced, as will the sails and the rigging. Also, the entire ship will need to be cleaned and rep-”

“Spark.” She grumbled, “Remember the off button idea?”

“I remember that you could not install it if your life depended on it, for more reasons than you not knowing how, yes.” He snarked quietly, turning a little smile on her when she raised a challenging eyebrow at him, “But don’t worry, I catch your meaning.”

“Good.” She sighed, “You know why I’m agitated, anyway. Don’t you?”

“Mhm.” He nodded curtly, summarising the lot of it breezily, even almost flippantly, “You do not know what is happening right now, and have been excluded from the loop of information. Why that would bother you is fairly obvious.”

“Yeah, I guess it is…” She sighed as they rounded a corner and came into view of the private docks, just down the main docking area. Several guards were milling about outside the gate onto the dock and, when one spotted her, the others turned to look in her direction as well. Then, together, they all started pushing through the crowd towards her. “Uh, why do I feel like they’re coming for me?”

“Because they are, Rion.” Spark sighed, folding his hands in front of himself and tutting quietly. “Honestly, you are not the most observant person, are you?”

“Oh, great, snark and a trio of guards coming to maybe arrest me for… Well, something, I guess.” Unconsciously, she half-turned to run, instincts screaming against waiting while guards came for her. “Think we should run?”

“Rion, if I believe they have hostile intentions, or you do, then I would sooner kill the lot of them than run.” He explained simply and quietly, sounding and looking for all the world like he was explaining the day’s weather. “Tell me what to do, Rion.”

“...Nothing.”

“You’re certain?”

“No.” But it was too late, sadly, so she shoved down the anxiety and put on as friendly a face as she could manage. Which wasn’t much, but hey, she was at least trying. “Need something? I was just headed for my ship to stow some goods and take inventory.”

“Chieftain Belladonna sent word to the guards at the docks that he needed you to come see him as soon as your business dealings were finished.” The leader Guard, face split by an impressive horn, answered simply. As bad as it was, she couldn’t not look at the horn, and the man seemed to know, sighing and going on tiredly, “He said it was urgent, and he apologized for the inconvenience.”

“Apologized, but insisted anyway?”

“I’m afraid so.” The man drawled, adding a belated, sarcastic, “Ma’am.”

With a tired sigh she handed the sack of Lien to Spark, who was much more intimidating than her and so less likely to be pick-pocketed, and turned to head inland, “I guess you can let him know we’re on our way then.”

“Sure.” The man grunted, “Why not?”

‘Like it’s not literally your job?’ She very nearly said, eventually only shrugging and stalking away tiredly.

Even though Ghira hasn’t put out any information about the lockdown being held, or Sienna being called, the city was a different beast to how it normally was. The streets were mostly quiet, and oddly empty even if they were still more than thronged with people. Those that were out and about, shopping or headed to or from their jobs, kept their gazes ahead or down. Hell, most didn’t even spit at her as she passed by, and that had to spell the end times if nothing else was going to.

And, she noticed, every single weapon, Dust and armor trader was either out of stock, or only selling the lowest grade of wares.

“He’s not very subtle about any of this...” She murmured, just loud enough that Spark would hear but not loud enough that anyone seemed to notice. And if they had, then she seriously doubted that they’d know what she meant anyway.

“Preparations need to be made, no matter what happens.” Spark answered quietly, thudding along directly behind her so closely that she was sure if he was a normal human instead of a giant Forerunner automaton and she stopped, he’d run into her. “Subtlety and nuance are… Less important than, say, survival.”

“I know.” She sighed, “It’s just…”

“Getting to you?”

“Maybe.” She nodded, “Who could ignore the feeling in the air, you know? It’s like… Like a storm is coming, and everyone can see it, but they can’t do anything except wait for it to hit them and rip the world apart.”

“That’s… Descriptive.” Spark murmured, “And a bit dramatic, too. Have you been taking lessons when I haven’t been watching, Rion?”

“Ass.” She rolled her eyes, but his words did the trick in spite of her hating it, and she felt a smile tug along her lips. Quietly, as they neared the manor, she asked, “You have a Watcher up, yeah?”

“I do.” He answered, “Watching thermals, alternating regulars and cataloguing signatures from both. Mainly looking for anyone I don’t see around us.”

“Good. Keep at it” She nodded as the Chieftain's Manor came into view, surrounded by men and women of literally every description. 

Craftsmen, merchants, and a lot of ship crewmen in a wide swathe of uniforms were milling aimlessly across the, for Kuo Kuana at least, wide plaza that surrounded the manor. A pretty large, again for Kuo Kuana, contingent of guards had surrounded the manor preemptively, but they looked bored. And just as aimless as the people they were watching, too. Hell, a few of them were talking to each other, their polearms slung lazily over their shoulders or leaning against benches.

But then, on the other side of the plaza, she could see a handful of cloaked figures setting up a stage. White Fang… But then, she’d suggested inviting more White Fang, so who was she to be uncomfortable seeing them? 

Well, she was a Human facing a large, and soon to be larger, number of Faunus that had a lot of reasons to hate Humans. But also a hypocrite, and that wasn’t something she was going to stay. Her father would rise from the grave just to bend her over a knee if she did anything but, after all.

“Ah, Rion, good.” She heard as soon as she came through the door, looking up as Khali rushed towards her. She looked… Off, in a way Rion couldn’t place. Like she was somehow exhausted to the point of nearly falling over, but at the same time elated, with a spring to her step.

“Missus Belladonna.” She smiled, “How are you do-”

“Please do not ask how I am doing right now, Rion, I’m going to need very strong drinks before I can start processing how I am doing right now.” Khali rattled off quickly, adding ‘bordering on a nervous breakdown’ to the long list of things Rion could pick out that were worrying her right now. Taking a breath, the woman waved the whole matter off and said, “Thank you for coming, though. I know you had stuff to get done today, too.”

“I did, yeah.” She shrugged, “But I got most of it done, and handed the Lien off to Spark.”

“Yeah, no one will get near it with him holding it.” Khali chuckled, paying the silent machine a long, wary look and then turning to head further into the manor. Waving a hand over her shoulder she asked, quietly, “If you’d follow me? I have someone I want you to meet. Or, well, a couple someone’s, actually, but… Well you’ll see.”

Shrugging, and by now used to being dragged around even if it still agitated her to no, she followed the Faunus.

“I have to warn you ahead of time, she can be… Well, a bit abrasive, sometimes. Especially if she’s in one of her bad moods, which she definitely is right now.” Khali rattled off as they walked, meandering quickly through the manor’s wide, wandering halls. “She hates sailing, and had to sail here, so she’s not very happy.”

“Yeah, sailing can be… Rough.” She chuckled, “Especially when the seas get rough.”

“Well, she had to fight a Grimm on the way, too.” Khali sighed wearily, “A Sea Dragon, I believe. Those can be tough.”

“Sea Dragon?”

“A type of Grimm which dwells in the ocean, capable of breath attacks and flight. They prefer the shallows and lurking among reefs, ambushing passing ships.” Spark answered mechanically, no doubt drawing on online resources available in Kuo Kuana. “Eliminating a Grimm of that class is slated as a high tier accomplishment, typically pursued by veteran, highly accomplished teams of Huntsmen.”

“Well, she managed it.” Khali boasted, smiling in a strangely proud sort of way, “And only with one person helping, too. Or, well, a person and a cannon.”

“That’s… Impressive.” Rion blinked, nodding and adding, “But I guess that’s to be expected from the White Fang, right?”

“Come again?” Khali almost squeaked, coming to a sudden stop and turning to look at her, brow raised in confusion. “Who mentioned the White Fang…?”

“I, well…” Rion blinked and crossed her arms, confused herself now, before she shrugged and said, “Well, you said you wanted me to meet someone important enough I needed to come right here. Someone with a cannon too, apparently, that sailed here. So…”

“So you assumed I meant Sienna and her White Fang.” Khali huffed, laughing and shaking her head amusedly. Turning to go on, she explained, “No, Sienna will be a few days yet, I’m afraid. She needed to handle a few matters at her base before coming to meet with us, unfortunately, so she’s only actually leaving Mistral today.”

“Ah.”

“And we… May need to send you to meet up with her, to ensure she gets here safely.” Khali added nervously, rushing to explain, before she could say anything, “We need to keep our guards here, while we prepare. But there might be Grimm out there, or more worryingly, privateers. And right now, you’re the only anti-privateer expert we have.”

“I suppose so, yeah.” Did one successful fight really make them experts? But then again, Spark could essentially eradicate anyone that didn’t see his drones coming. So maybe the point was moot. “When do we leave, then?”

“I don’t know yet, unfortunately.” She shrugged, “Ghira will, though.”

“Alright.” She sighed as they reached the door to Ghira’s office. Curious, she asked, “If not Sienna, though, then... Who am I meeting, exactly?”

“Oh, I wanted you to come meet Blake and her friend.” Khali answered with a wide, warm smile, knocking on the door gently. As familiar footsteps thudded heavily towards it, Khali added, “She’s my daughter. Ran off with a terrorist when she was about thirteen, but she’s back from Beason now that it's, you know, closed.”

“Oh.” Rion blinked, “Wait, she did what?”

XxX----XxX----XxX

The Baz :

Consider for a moment how long it took them to eliminate two of these ships and come home, when they were headed oughly straight to them. About a week, due to a storm and hauling in cargo. Now even if I only assert there are three more such fleets out there, North, South and West of Kuo Kuana, then it is easy to see that they simply can’t intercept them all.

Which would mean that the majority of the privateers are free to, unmolested, hamper Menagerie’s supplies.

A more solid solution is just necessary. And more permanent, too, since as far as Ghira and Khali would be concerned and know, Rion intends to leave eventually. So even that small counter-action isn’t permanent. Whereas a standing defense force would be.

Cool Dude :

Yes! I mean both, more or less, though as an American writing for American made characters, most of my representation of that particular evil of Humanity will be American. Just because I feel better suited to show that.

Rein Tenebres :

Glad you enjoy it!

Combine 117 :

Lol.


	11. Pirate-Be-Gone, Part VI

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Official Supporters: 

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Compulsive Reader, The Impossible Muffin

Commissioner, Gib, Espa Cole

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“You’re the Human that wants the Fang to come back to Menagerie?” Blake snapped, her eyes narrow and face warped in a deep frown. Rion only nodded, caught off guard by a woman who seemed to have been waiting for her father to open the door, and Blake practically hissed, “Are you insane or just an idiot?”

“Blake Belladonna, I did not raise you to be rude to guests!” For a supposed terrorist, Blake balked pretty quickly in the face of Kali’s maternal ire, shrinking back and stalking to the couch with a frown. Sighing, the older Faunus explained, “And Rion only suggested it, because of what’s been happening.”

“We agreed with her reasoning, Blake.” Ghira added, laying a hand on her shoulder and nudging her away gently. “We told you what was going on, so what do you suggest we do instead?”

Blake didn’t have anything to say to that and turned away, stalking to Ghira’s couch and falling onto one side of.

“So much for being a hardened ex-terrorist…” Rion murmured as she rounded the couch and took a seat on one of the Chieftain’s chairs, Spark standing behind her and playing his part as dutifully as always.

“Eh, should’ve seen her back at Beacon.” Her blonde friend, a man with seemingly as little body fat as humility or clothes, laughed. “She was real quiet and down back then. Opened up a bit since, though, thanks to me and her-”

“Sun.” Blake sighed quietly, eyes pinching shut while she fought a very obvious wave of aggravation, “Can we please not talk about Beacon right now? Or at all, maybe?”

“Uh, yeah.” The blonde Faunus nodded, obviously worried but not sure what to do about it. Stretching an arm along the back of the couch he sighed and smiled warmly. “You’re the boss, Blake. So what do we talk about? Your mom’s awesome fashion sense?”

“Oh, stop it now, you rascal.” The woman laughed, sitting on the other end of the couch beside her daughter and laughing while Ghira rumbled and mumbled angrily, stalking his way to the empty chair on Sun’s end of the couch so he could glower at him. “And aside from Sun being a dear and picking a fight with Ghira, we could… Talk about our dinner plans for the night, I suppose?”

“Or about the pirates.” Blake suggested dryly, staring a hole into the ceiling “There has got to be a better plan than bringing the Fang here to deal with them.”

“Like?” Rion asked icily, watching the young Faunus closely while she tried to feel her out. If she was an ex-terrorist, then how had she left the Fang? It didn’t sound like a very civil parting, from how Blake was reacting. “What’s the alternative? Because we don’t see anything.”

“I don’t know, just… Something that doesn’t involve them.” Blake answered hotly, rounding on Rion with a confused look, “You’re a Human! Why would you even consider them in the first place?”

“By looking at the facts.” Rion shrugged, “Unless you can look at them and come up with something different, then we’re stuck.”

“No, we,” Blake snapped, waving a hand at her parents and her blonde friend, “are stuck. Us. the Faunus. You can leave if you want to. Head to Mistral and grab a ship from there back to Atlas, if you have the Lien. And you should have more than enough after the haul you brought in.”

“You know about that?”

“Mother told me.” She shrugged and crossed her arms, adding quietly, “And thank you, for stopping those pirates, by the way.”

“You’re welcome.” And what was that whiplash worthy turn-around? Blake had gone from getting on her case to thanking her like a car from zero to sixty and then back down all in the same moment. Shrugging, Rion added, “And I want to stay and help. Your parents helped me when I needed it, so I owe it to them.”

“Oh dear, please, you don’t owe us a single thing.” Kali assured her, smiling when Rion gave her a look. “You sunk two ships and brought in plenty of weapons and supplies, too. I’d say you’ve more than paid us back for helping you out, if you wanted to leave.”

“I agree.” Ghira added with a smile, “You’ve rearmed a portion of our Guard corps as well. And all for a pittance, probably. If you’re only here because you think you owe it to us, then rest assured, that debt is repaid. The ship is yours, use it to head home, if you wish to. You don’t have to stay and fight for us.”

...Huh.

“I’ll… Think about it, I guess.” She promised unsurely, filing away that bit of information for later, when she could talk to Spark a bit more freely. “But for now, uh, you wanted to introduce us, right?”

“Ah, yes, of course.” Ghira smiled widely and warmly, in the way that fathers so often did, turning and gesturing with a broad hand to Blake, “Well, to do this more properly then, this is Blake. Kali and I’s only child and currently the heir to Menagerie’s chieftainship.”

“Oh Dust me, you’re actually a princess…”

“Damn it, Sun!”

“And that is Sun Wukong.” Ghira sighed, all of his joy and warmth rushing out of him faster than a bullet from a barrel. “An aggravating little creature that stalked my daughter from one continent to another.”

“Hey!” The blonde grunted, “I followed out of worry! I’m not a stalker!”

“Mhm.” Blake nodded, “Sure you aren’t.”

“Disagree with that…”

“Dear, just don’t fight it.”

“Oh, I’m tired, I give up.” Sun sighed, flailing and flopping over the couch very much like a dead fish. Waving for them to go on, he sighed, “Just ignore the stalker, I guess. Sure you guys have something important to get on to.”

"More important than heckling you?" Ghira rumbled quietly, chuckling under his breath. "Not likely."

“Gee, thanks…”

Still, the Chieftain sighed and stood, heading over to his desk to grab a large yellow folder and a furled map. He brought both over and offered them to her, explaining when she took them and cracked the files open to read, “The files are introductory, give them to Sienna when you meet her ship. The map will show you the rendezvous point, a couple days out from harbor.”

“Got it.” She nodded, folding it all together and offering it to Spark. It might have been pretend, but if she didn’t actually have to carry everything… He took it and she smirked, asking, “What are we expecting out there? I’m guessing you aren’t sending us out there for no reason.”

“No, we wouldn’t waste your time.” Kali explained while Ghira returned to his seat. “Mistrali domestic security has long been looking for Sienna Khan-”

“For good reason.” Blake cut in, crossing her legs and arms both and grumbling. “She’s a murdering terrorist after all. Why wouldn’t they be?”

“I bet your name is on their Wanted list, too, Miss Belladonna.” Rion pointed out, holding her hands in surrender when the young Faunus turned to her, eyes narrow and angry. “Just making the point. Besides, we need her-”

“Again, we need her.” Blake pointed out, “You can leave.”

“Actually, they’d probably be as big a threat to her as to us.” Sun, of all people, pointed out quietly. When the room turned to him in the obvious question, he explained, “Well… You’d be leaving from Menagerie. If they knew that, or maybe even if they didn’t, then you might have pirates-”

“Privateers.” Kali pointed out automatically, adding, “Pirates are, um, independent and- Sorry.”

“Anyway, you said they were hitting everyone, for the most part.” Sun went on, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Human crews or not, Menagerie flags or not, it doesn’t matter. Right?”

“Right.” Blake nodded, chewing the inside of a cheek and pinching the bridge of her nose. Sucking in a breath, she said, “Sorry, I just… Tides, the last couple of weeks have been hell for me. I don’t mean to take it out on you, I just… I don’t know.”

“Blake…” And good god did it look like Kali just wanted to rush over and bundle Blake up in a hug. Instead, she turned to Rion, mouth working confusedly while she tried to find something to say.

Rion cut in before she could, though, smiling and saying, “I’ve been having a hell of a couple months, too, Blake. Don’t worry about it, just… Trying to get by can be hard, but if you’re anything like what I’ve seen so far from your parents, you can do it. I’ve seen people come through worse.”

“You don’t even know what I’ve been through…”

“Nope.” But Rion knew for a fact that people had come through worse. One of them was literally standing behind her right now, after all. Not that she could say that. Instead she said, “But I’ve seen plenty, and been through plenty, too. People are tough. As long as you can still look yourself in the eye in the mirror, you’re on the right track.”

“Yeah.” Blake frowned and stood, sighing a long, deep sigh and heading for the door, “I’m going to catch a shower and head to bed. Mom, is my room…?”

“Just how you left it, more or less.” Kali smiled knowingly and added, coyly, “Complete with all the band posters and those magazines under your bed under that floorboard.”

Blake stiffened and hissed and then bolted out of the room like someone had touched a branding iron to her rear end. In her wake, the room exploded into a warm laughter that broke the ice that had built up before it. It was nice to just be able to relax in that moment, even if Rion already knew that they’d have to drag it all back down in just a few minutes.

As they calmed down, Sun stood too, rubbing the back of his neck and asking, “I, uh, hate to be a dick. But…”

“There’s a hotel down a few blocks.” Ghira grunted, smiling thinly and folding his arms over his massive chest. “Should have a few rooms spare. If not, I know another one over near the docks. Owner owes me a-”

“Oh, Ghira, stop it.” Kali laughed, standing and laying a hand on the man’s shoulder and guiding him towards the door, “Come on, I’ll show you to a guest room. It isn’t much, I’m afraid, but it’s a warm bed.”

“Thanks.” The Faunus smiled and chuckled, letting her lead him along by the arm with a sad kind of smile. “Ad don’t worry, Misses B, I’m from Vacuo. A real bed’s already a bit more than I’m used to needing.”

The door shut behind them before Rion could hear Kali’s response, leaving her and Ghira alone. After a quiet moment, Rion stood to leave, too.

“Rion.” Ghira said as she reached for the door handle. She turned, raising a brow at the man, and he said, “Be careful out there. Your droid is damn good, I’ve seen the damage it can do. But you never know what you’ll run into out there.”

“I know.” More than he did, probably, not to speak ill of him. “Don’t worry, I’ll be alright.”

“I know.” He sighed, closing his eyes and relaxing in his chair. “Just an old man worrying, I suppose. If you mind letting Kali know, I… I think I’ll take a nap. Today’s been a stressful one, and I think it’ll do me some good.”

“I’ll let her know if I see her.” She promised, “Get some rest, Chieftain. I have a feeling you’ll need it.”

XxX----XxX----XxX

“How are our supplies?” Spark asked the next day as she came into the bridge of the Spirit. Smirking and shifting to a mocking pink hue, he added, “I know you’re just a squishy little meat bag, but I’m assuming counting isn’t beyond you. It’s not, is it?”

“Why do I keep you around again?”

“My winning personality?”

“No, we both know your personality is garbage.” She sighed, taking a seat at the navigation desk and unfurling the map Ghira had given them. While she marked out where they were going on the ship’s larger map, tacked to the wall over the navigator’s desk at the back of the bridge cabin. “Try again, Spark.”

“...My precision heavy weapons?”

“There it is!” She smiled, pushing a tack in at their destination and rolling the map back up so she could fit it in one of the desk’s drawers. Dropping into the rolling chair and kicking it back, she looked up at the map and smiled, “Knew there was some reason I kept you around, just couldn’t remember what it was.”

“Well, at least my value as a weapons platform isn’t lost.” He chuckled, asking, “You like the new map?”

“I do, yeah.”

It might have been marked up, but it was still a good spare map. And much smaller than the nearly wall sized one they’d had pinned up against the back wall of the bridge. It was more detailed than the one Ghira had given her, marking out elevation and terrain features on the minor continent itself as well as oceanic hazards all around the landmass. Colored lines marked out popular trade lanes, and a book that had come with the map named them and explained the directions they were meant to go on them, running with the sea and wind currents. And places well known to be trafficked by Grimm, too.

Part of her wanted to visit a few, and see how Spark fared against them.

But part of her also knew that playing that game was dangerous, and didn’t offer nearly enough gain to play. Even if the bounties on the Grimm might be lucrative, there was no telling what a fight would do to their ship. And a win might very well be as fatal as a failure, if the monsters damaged their ship enough. So she didn’t suggest the idea.

Instead, she asked, “How are things on your end?”

“Fine.” He answered, “We have plenty of fuel, and the engines are in good condition. We’re ready to head out whenever you give the word, captain.”

“You’re still sore about that.” She snorted, “Aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Spark…”

“Okay, maybe a little.” He waved her off, shaking his mechanized head and asking. “Can we go now? I’d enjoy being out on the water, and we do have a meeting to get to.”

“Anxious?”

“A bit.” He nodded, tapping a mechanical finger on the captain’s wheel. “I have a bad feeling about it, and I don’t know why.”

“You and Ghira both…” She murmured, shrugging after a few moments and rolling her chair over to her friend. Rapping a knuckle against his armored skin, she ordered, “Let’s get going, then, captain Spark. Whatever’s going to happen, it won’t happen if we laze about here.”

“Aye, captain.” He sighed sarcastically, even tossing in a lazy, sloppy salute as he pulled away from the dock and asked, “Can you go and watch the fore?”

With a nod, she stood and left, headed to a window she could use to watch the ship’s front end without anyone realizing she wasn’t sailing the ship. Soon, his Watchers would replace her, but for now they needed the subtler option.

XxX----XxX----XxX

KPMH 2001 :

Yeah, I tried to convey that specific mania a bit. Hopefully I did well. Glad you enjoyed the story!


	12. Pirate-Be-Gone, Part VII

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“We’re making good time.” Rion murmured the next morning, jotting out their course along the coastline towards Mistral, and the point they were supposed to intercept Khan’s ship. “We need to get to point A7 before three, though, or the tide will go out and we’ll have to detour out to sea to avoid the reefs and sandbanks along the coast.”

“I’m aware.” The large machine rumbled quietly, “Heading calculations say we should pass through with half an hour to spare.”

“A Watcher?” She asked curiously, looking over the last, smaller leg of their journey once they crossed from Menagerie’s coastline to Mistral’s. Sailing there was just easier for their kind of ship, after all. 

“A watcher.” He confirmed, “I used it to gauge our speed and check for storms in the region, then ran the numbers myself.”

“Smart plan...”

“I mean,” he smiled, turning to her and cocking his head, “I did come up with the course. So of course, it would be a smart one.”

“One of these days, Spark. One of these days you will wake up covered in glitter.” She threatened tiredly, finalizing their course prediction and setting it aside to look out the forward window at the blue ocean they were crossing. Shooting him a smirk, she added, “And I do mean covered, too. Head to toe.”

“You realize that I can simply oscillate and reorient the panels on my exterior to disperse and conceal it until my internal systems vaporize it, correct?”

“Uh…”

“Because I can do that.” Spark went on, shifting the colors across his entire body to a vibrant red for a moment before returning to his normal greys and blues. “Just like that. It’s a core function of my armor repair systems, and how I change my appearance. Did you not know that?”

“Uh… Of course I did.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes I did!” She laughed, waving him off and asking, “What kind of captain wouldn’t know how, uh, plate oscillation works?”

“Probably the same one that wouldn’t have caught on that we have a stow-away in the forward section.” Spark answered plainly, nodding and smiling when she rounded on him suddenly. “Hiding in the cargo hold, where nothing is stored at the moment. One of my Watchers caught them on a thermal sweep about an hour ago.”

“And you’re just telling me now?!”

“Well, yes.” He nodded, “I didn’t want to plot the course, and watching you do it was funny.”

“Oh you son of a-” She scowled and turned, storming off and ordering over a shoulder. “Give me a Suppressor, I’ll deal with the stowa-away.”

“Rion-”

“Just do what I say, Spark, please.” She snapped, shaking her head as she rounded the corner and vanished down the hallway. A moment later, she saw orange light flashing ahead of her and scooped the falling rifle out of the air as she went, calling back, “Thanks!”

Their hold was fairly large, thanks to the space the old fish holding tanks had taken up. Most of the ship’s fore segments, below-deck and aside from the long access hall that ran along the spine at least, were just storage now. And with only one of them having actual needs to meet, even that was made to feel cavernous and ludicrous, with weeks of supplies for her stacked up in the first storage room in the hall, right beside the stairs that let down into the access area.

The crates, barrels and sacks there were in the exact same space, and number, as when she’d put them there herself. So she moved on, checking the storage room at the back of the hall, where workers had once upon a time stored equipment for hauling fish that escaped the nets on the dock out to sell. And for cleaning the fish-hold, too. It was empty, too, but one thing had been changed.

The hatch out to the fish-hold was cracked open, when she knew they’d locked it before. And since it only opened on one side, why it would be left open was obvious...

“I know someone is in there that doesn’t belong in there.” She called out warningly, leveling the weapon on the door. “And I’m giving you one chance to come out. After this, if you do, I’ll shoot you. And if I run you down in there, I’ll shoot you, too.”

There was a long stretch of silence, long enough Rion almost stormed through the door, before a pair of hands slipped into the room to tug the door open. As the stowaway stepped into view, Rion sighed long and hard and lowered her Suppressor. She was dirty, and looked more ashamed at being caught than what she’d done, but held her hands up in sheepish surrender either way.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she muttered, “You have got to be kidding… Why the hell are you on my ship?”

“You know why.” Blake answered sharply, “You’re going to meet Sienna Khan.”

“Yes, on your father’s orders.” Rion sighed, setting the weapon against the wall beside her and shaking her head. “Are you actually insane, Blake? I could have shot you!”

“I have an Aura!”

“That’s not the point!” She snapped back, storming across the room to point a long finger in the Faunus’ face. “I would have to live with having shot you! Do you have any idea how I’d feel about that? About trying to kill my friend’s daughter?”

“It… Wouldn’t have worked, but... But that doesn’t matter, I guess.” Blake sighed, dropping her hands and grimacing. Like it physically hurt, she said, “I’m sorry, Miss Forge. I didn’t think about that part, I just… I wanted to help.”

“Of course you didn’t think!” Rion snapped, pacing away towards the door and grunting over a shoulder, “Come on. You can tell me how you imagined you’d help on the way to the bathroom. You reek, like you haven’t showered in a day and a half and live in the tropics.”

“Because… That’s what happened?”

“I know.” She smirked, “I was insulting you.”

“Oh…”

XxX----XxX----XxX

Rione left the young woman in the bathroom, to bathe and get dressed in some robes Rion had stored away for when she ran her laundry. The clothes were a bit too big in some places, and too small in others, and obviously sized for Rion. But they’d do the job while the woman cleaned her clothes. The clothes hadn’t been too grimy, but she had been hiding in a storage building in the tropical heat, after all, and they had time.

“What kind of idiot hides in a cargo hold in this heat…?” She growled as she stormed across the bridge and slammed the Suppressor down on the same table she’d been working at maybe ten minutes before. 

“The foolish, misguided, but no doubt well-intentioned kind.” Spark answered as he turned the ship a bit and waved a hand, disassembling the constructed weapon with no more than a thought.

“Misguided?” She snorted and fell into a chair, “That’s a word for it, I guess.”

“You’re angry?”

“A bit, yeah.” She nodded, “I could have shot her, Spark.”

“I mean, that is true, yes.” The machine nodded, smiling pleasantly as he watched the sea pass by. “But she does have an Aura. So shooting her is a bit less of a thing than would probably be normal.”

“Yeah.” Rion snorted a small laugh, “She said the same thing, actually. And guess what?”

“She made you mad when you said it, too?”

“Got it in one.” She sighed, turning back to their charts and pursing her lips. Complaining wouldn’t do anything now, and she knew that. Instead, she said, “She’s going to have a lot of questions if she sees how you’re acting, though.”

“Oh I know.” He nodded, “And that is… Going to be an issue, unless we do what I want to do about her.”

“We’re not throwing her overboard.” She smiled, “That wouldn’t be right to do to Ghira and Kali.”

“Alright, unless we do the other thing I want to do about her. Strange meat bags and your strange ideas...” Spark sighed playfully, tutting and then shrugging uncaringly. “She’s a stow-away, so, I suggest we simply lock her up.”

“Lock her up?”

“There are spare rooms we can use easily enough.” He nodded simply, waving a dismissive, flippant hand at the ship around them. “You or I can simply turn the handle around to lock from the outside rather than the inside, and our problem is solved. Isn’t it?”

“I guess.” It would solve all of their problems. But… “We’ll confine her to a room, but I’m not locking her in.”

“But-”

“What if the ship sinks?” She asked sharply, raising a brow when the ancient pursed his lips tersely. He didn’t answer, though, and Rion took that as all the understanding she was used to getting from the man. “We’ll confine her, for stowing away, but that’s all I’m willing to do. Understood?”

“Aye, captain.” Spark nodded, “Whatever you like.”

“Mhm.” She nodded, turning a look on the map she’d been working on and asking. Spark, estimated time?”

“We’ll be at the location come dawn.” He answered plainly, shooting her one of his thin little smiles she often used so she’d know that he wasn’t angry with her, even if he was obviously irritable. “Or, well, just a bit after. Unless they make better time than expected, in which case a bit earlier. But either way, it should be convenient for us.”

“Right.” She stood, “I’ll put the kid to bed, then, and find something to do. Unless you need anything?”

“No, I’m quite alright. Just stowaways on board, terrorist queens wanted by the known world to meet, and giant monsters that just might eat us at any time to deal with.” He smiled at her, then, and this time it was one of his coy, mocking smiles. “Oh, and you don’t want to lock the ex-terrorist stow-away’s door on her! What could I possibly need?”

“Spark…”

“What could possibly go-”

“I will hire Atlas to install a mute button on you!” She warned through a laugh, leaning on the corner of the door and shooting him a look, “The whole Kingdom! The entire damn thing, all to mute you!”

“Good luck!” Spark laughed as she left, “Have fun getting that kind of budget!”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t answer, headed to the same spare storage building Blake had been using to hide in all this time and getting to work on setting it up. She didn’t have much for her, just a spare blanket and some sheets, but the young Belladonna had been forced to use less than that in the empty hold. So Rion was sure she’d be fine…

Assuming Rion could convince her to stay down there. Which was going to be a battle in itself, she was sure.

“You’re serious?” Blake deadpanned when she got out of the bathroom, damp hair tied back in a couple ponytails set at the base of her head. She’d leaned against the wall while Rion talked, crossing her arms and glaring silently. “You’re going to lock me in a cargo room? Seriously?”

“Yep.” Rion nodded, crossing her own arms and putting on the same glare. “Face it, Blake, you stowed away on my ship without anything even getting close to permission. So you’re going to stay down here while we do our jobs, and then when we get to Menagerie, you’re going to explain what you did. To me and your parents.”

“I already explained-”

“No, you made an excuse.” Rion cut her off, “And an excuse that your parents and I already argued with you about, too. You lost that argument, if I remember right. So, unless you want to tell me the real reason you’re so against this...”

“Real reason…?”

“I’m not an idiot, Blake, and neither are you.” A bit hard-headed and hot blooded, maybe, but not an idiot. She’d heard enough about her to know that much, and sneaking onto her ship only sold all of those things again. “I can tell you’re afraid of something, something to do with the White Fang, but I don’t know what.”

“...It’s private.” She muttered after a moment, rushing to add, before Rion could react, “And besides that, my reasons stand. They destroyed Beacon! Attacked Vale!”

“Those aren’t things to talk to me about, Blake.” Rion shrugged, “Your parents knew all of that and went ahead with this plan anyway. You could have tried to convinced them again, but since you didn’t, I doubt you can.”

“They didn’t listen!” Blake growled, “And who knows what the Fang will do next?”

“Sienna Khan would know.” Rion offered simply, “Why don’t you relax, and then ask her when we get to Menagerie?”

“...” Blake didn’t say anything, simply glowering and slipping into the cargo room without a backward word. Rion reached for the door but Blake beat her to it, resting a hand on its edge and adding a parting, “Just be careful, Miss Forge. And keep an eye out when you meet up with the Fang. They won’t be happy to see a Human…”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Keep in mind that you have an armed Huntress-in-training aboard, too.” Blake suggested quietly, tugging the door shut before Rion could react.

Quietly, Rion turned to leave, murmuring to herself, “Maybe I will… If push comes to shove.”

XxX----XxX----XxX

She bolted awake the next morning and looked up through the sleep in her eyes at Spark, his face grim and coloring a dull, alert red that lit up her room subtly. Quietly, but tensely enough that she sat up and rolled her shoulders to wake up, he explained, “One of the Watchers spotted movement on the horizon, so I sent it to investigate further. I spotted Khan’s ship.”

“But…?”

“It is being pursued by a larger interceptor.” He answered, standing and turning to leave while Rion felt the familiar rush of adrenaline start to kick in, dragging her out of sleep and straight into readiness, “And taking fire, too. I’ve sent two Watchers to observe and intervene if needed, but-”

“You’re worried about spilling the beans about you.” She grunted shortly, rolling out of bed and tugging off her ruined clothes from the day before to get into her body-glove and a set of pale cream robes she’d bought to wear over it. She didn’t need to order the ancient to make the Light Rifle she picked up from her bed as she turned to leave, following him to the bridge and asking, “What’s the status of Khan’s ship?”

“Evading. They’ve yet to- Ah.” He paused and sighed, mechanical lips frowning deeply. “Glancing blow off their back end, Faunus in the water from the shattered rear section’s top. The ship shuddered, but it seems only to be superficially damaged. However that means the artillery on the pursuers is zeroing in on them…”

“Damn it.” She hissed, storming into the bridge and over to her map. Spark had kept notes of their passage while she worked and then slept, a little line of blue pencil-work drawn along the route they’d taken. Using it, she did some math and asked, “We’re twenty minutes out?”

“Thirty.” He corrected, “Khan’s ship’s evasive maneuvering has slowed their progress.”

“Tch.” She frowned and thought for the briefest moment before ordering, “Draw target lines on their engine or masts. Slow them down if you can. Try and time precision shots with the Faunus’ return fire.”

“Affirmative.” He nodded, “The Faunus ship is down to a single rear cannon, though. Finding the timing to place shots will be… Problematic.”

“If anyone can do it, it’s you.” She shot him a smile but then turned back to her work with a small sigh. “If they take more damage, open fire. Free fire, free targeting, just keep Khan’s ship alive in the water.”

“Understood.” The machine answered simply, hurling a little disk at the back wall suddenly and adding distractedly. “Visual projector. From one of the circling Watchers.”

As soon as he finished speaking, a circle that dominated most of the wall flared to sparking, blue life. A heartbeat passed and the blue shifted from static, fake holo-display froth to a more natural oceanic blue. A pair of other Watchers hovered below it and to the side, zipping to and fro amidst the clouds while long barreled weapons hung from beneath them. Far below, a pair of ships were sailing soundlessly through the sea.

The rear ship was large, almost like a narrower galleon of old but with a large pair of round paddle-wheels fitted to its rear, to either side of the ship-castle. Its front was narrow, but fitted with braced armored plates that jutted out from the hull itself, presumably to let it absorb shock better and deflect blows away from the wooden hull. She couldn’t see its weapons or crew from so high up, but it didn’t have a mast or sail, so she could see what looked very much like ants swarming across the hull.

She could see a large cannon mounted on what looked like a raised front end, though.

And she saw it fire, too, its shot slamming into the water next to Khan’s ship seemingly only because it yanked to the side at the last moment.

Khan’s ship was smaller, fitted exclusively with three sets of large, triangular sails. One of which was smoldering while the crew seemed to be trying to keep its fires out. The forward section was thin, presumably for speed, but the rear was wide with a raised structure that had been blown in half. Debris trailed along in the water behind it, but for now, the wind was with the sail-ship and it was keeping ahead of the ship.

But that wasn’t going to last...

The pursuer’s cannon fired again, and this time it struck home, the rear-most mast teetering and falling away, along with the crew on it. Khan’s ship couldn’t stop for them, though, and kept on while the pursuer started to finally gain on it. It angled to the side, trying to get on Khan’s right and forcing the ship to turn as it closed.

“Spark, what-”

“The wind will be against her if they get on that side and force her to turn.” Spark warned instantly, cutting her off for speed. “We’re ten minutes out, but the interceptor will catch them before we get there.”

“I know.” She sighed, watching the interceptor draw along-side and force Khan’s ship to turn full at last. If they had broadsides… “Open fire. Sink the interceptor by any means. We’ll deal with Khan’s questions later.”

“Understood.” He nodded, “Descending to a firing position and acquiring targets.”

In tandem, the three Watchers began to descend quickly, dropping at least a hundred feet or more before leveling out. Then the rifles bucked, sending bursts of hard light down from on high, carving through whatever targets Spark had drawn at the fore of the ship. Another burst of fire cracked out soundlessly, the display lacking any sound, and she saw the large frontal cannon swivel, dead, to the side.

A lucky shot hit something around the weapon and an explosion rocked the ship, hurling debris high into the air. It emerged from the smoke with a hole in its fore section, but didn’t slow, even as its crew began trying to fight a fire that raged on it.

“Spark.” She said as she got an idea, “Move to its side and fire into the engine compartment. Blow the system.”

“We won’t get any loot from that…”

“I don’t care, it’s faster.” She sighed, crossing her arms and frowning. “We won’t have time to loot anyway. So just do it.”

He didn’t answer, but the Watchers descended again, flanking around and to the side as they closed with the interceptor. Someone on board must have noticed them because burts of rifle fire started coming in, trying to pick them off. But the Watchers were small and hovered at a long range while they scanned the hull, looking for a power junction that they found in the belly of the large section.

Together, the three of them fired on the wooden hull, boring through it over the course of a dozen precision bursts. A heavy round slammed into one of the Watchers and Rion watched it spark and fall to the sea, but the other two just kept on firing. Two more short bursts slammed into the smoldering ship inside a heartbeat.

Then, its rear exploded as something hit the Dust it used for fuel and set off a reaction. The ship shuddered from the first, smallest explosion, and then rocked so hard it nearly capsized as something else further forward reacted and exploded. Split in two, the ship’s front rocketed forward for inertia before listing to a stop.

“Dust is a very reactive substance.” Spark murmured as they watched it burn. They only watched for a moment, though, before he said, “Making best speed to intercept with Khan. She seems to be circling back to search for survivors.”

“Good.” She nodded, “Get us there.”

Rion had to think of an explanation, though… Because Khan was certain to have questions.

XxX----XxX----XxX


End file.
